


« Your lead. I follow. They’re your children. »

by KesaKo



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Author is Not Sorry, Beta Wanted, Bromance to Romance, Canonical Character Death, Character Development, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Non-Canonical Character Resurrection, Season/Series 03, Season/Series 05, Slow Build, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-17 14:52:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4670816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KesaKo/pseuds/KesaKo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set at the prison and Alexandria. </p><p>When Shane comes back from the dead, Rick doesn't actually expect him to be <em>alive</em>. But he is, and he asks to reintegrate the group. Of course, not everything can be fixed immediately: Lori is dead, and both of them struggle to adjust to the other's place and needs. Shane is more than willing to try.</p><p>« "I <em>lead the group. You follow my orders, and Carl and Judith are my children. Do you get that ?" </em><br/><em>His jaw is clenched now, but he doesn’t move. "Yes."</em><br/><em>"I want you to repeat what I said." </em><br/><em>Rick receives a nasty glare, but a few seconds later, through gritted teeth, Shane enunciates, "Your lead. I follow. Carl… and the baby are - they're your children."</em>  »<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. PART ONE : Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> [ **MARCH 2017 UPDATE :** Since a steady number of people keep kudo-ing this story (*LOVE*), I'm going through syntax and grammatical mistakes (again). If you don't like the writing style or the pace of the beginning of the story, I recommend you skip directly to part II (in Alexandria). This was my first story written in a foreign language, so I apologize if the reading was rather tedious.]
> 
> Okay, just between you and me - this fic comes from my needing an excuse to write Shane's smexy body naked. Of _course_ I paired him with Rick because, well, apart from the obvious reason, Rick also happens to be my fictional ideal husband. How convenient.  
>  All hail unruly hormones !
> 
> (If you ever wish to beta this story, please do pop by and volunteer.)
> 
> I hope you'll have a good time reading this !

_  
_

**PART ONE : THE PRISON**

 

 

 

Even though there isn't a precise way to keep track of time anymore, Rick can at least say it’s not long after Lori’s death that Shane Walsh comes back into their lives. Maybe three or four months at the very most. If truth be told, his first reaction when Shane’s brought to him, tied, aimed at by the others - with guns, crossbow and knives alike - and disturbingly _alive,_ is not to guess whether the temperature rather feels like a February or a March by looking at the sky or by enjoying the fresh spring breeze, but rather to straight out point his own Colt Python right to the man's head, as if he hadn’t done exactly that not so long ago.

"Come on, Rick," Shane indeed teases, "not again."

 _"You s_ _hut up."_ He growls in the hope of covering the sudden lump in his throat - growing, growing -, tilting both his head and his gun to the side, "Why aren’t you dead?"

"Oh, come _on_ Rick, things can't always go as you want them to, you know that."

No, they can’t. Swallowing the difficult, wet lump hurts so much Shane’s brown eyes fall to his throat, and then suddenly he’s looking around.

"Where’s Lori?" Shane asks.

The tense silence should be answer enough as everybody’s faces go blank with pain, but it’s Rick’s eyes Shane looks for when he spots Judith among the group. Rick’s lips pinches with misery - his mouth thinning in a slim white line. But despite everything, he used to know Rick, once. So Shane opens his own mouth in disbelief and turns his face away to breathe out, his eyes instantly wet and red-rimmed.

"God, that can’t be. I can’t believe you would let her _fucking die_!"

"I’m going to _kill_ you!" Rick howls with a broken voice while rushing forward, and when the gun bumps into Shane's forehead nobody cares enough to even twitch.

"Dad." Carl says firmly though, and it’s enough. It’ll always be.

 

 

  

 

_Earlier that day_

The day had been uneventful enough : Beth, Maggie, Hershel, Carol and Carl stayed inside with Judith for the most part while Daryl had gone with Michonne outside their usual perimeter. Their level of supplies was getting rather low, and besides, Rick was really starting to think about extending the garden. Hershel was right, yeah. If they could grow to become self-sufficient... Well, Daryl had been the obvious choice to look for seeds. Tyreese, Sasha and Glenn, for their part, had been keeping watch all day.

Around mid-afternoon, panting heavily under the hot and harassing sun which brought exhaustion faster, Rick paused and glanced at the prison to spot Maggie with Judith in her arms, the both of them idly sitting in the grass remotely close to the blocks - but _outside_ , still. Rick immediately worried. He cast an automatic glance above the barb-wire fence.

Obviously, from the place he was standing, he wouldn’t be the first to see if anything was wrong but, since Glenn swiftly raised his thumb in his direction straight away to let him know that everything _did_ look safe, Rick forced himself to _relax_. Easier said than done. The plan would soon be for everyone to feel at home here, but he couldn’t help that feeling of deep unease from creeping up his spine when he thought about letting anyone go outside. They had already lost so much.

Protecting his own was a feral need - Protecting his children, a completely savage one. Rick was on his own now, and there were two of them - among them a baby.

Rick was aware he'd refused to even acknowledge Judith’s very existence for a while after her birth, and for that he still felt an acute, keen guilt. The little girl was oblivious to the pain she had brought the day she came into his life.  Couldn't be held responsible for it, really. No, Judith was the epitome of innocence and the most beautiful thing in this insane world and she was  _his_. They were both _his_ \- his responsibilities his very reason to live right now. Staying alive meant taking care of his family, as he had pointed out to a certain man not so long ago. Maybe Rick wouldn’t even be there if it wasn’t for them.

Rick was slowly been walking back to the prison when when he heard the loud roar of a car. He stopped in his tracks, frowning. The gates were opened and closed by Sasha, who ran to the next watching point to yell something to Glenn. The boy jumped to the ground so quickly Rick was sure he had twisted his ankle, but the next second Glenn was sprinting back to the prison with guns in both hands, all the while crying out something to Rick. Wh... He couldn't make out the urgent warning. So he furrowed his brow and took a step forward with a brief, mistrustful look at the car.

"Shane!" Rick heard the second time, but there was no doubt he was misunderstanding, "It’s Shane!"

Soon enough the car stopped next to the main entrance of the prison, where the others were rapidly gathering. Whatever was causing all this fuss, Rick didn’t feel good knowing he was letting his children near it. His hand hovering over the Colt Python at his hip, he scampered along as the car doors were shot open and someone was unceremoniously dragged out of it.

No.

That couldn’t be.

" _Carl!_ _Stay away_!" Rick yelled, heart in his throat as he suddenly ran down the hill as fast as he could. As if his life depended on it.

It did.

Fortunately, every one of them had already taken out their weapons, pushing Shane in the center and far away from his boy, who kept a careful hand above his own revolver and was standing quite behind, confused and gaping. Rick then realized that Carl wouldn’t be able to shoot Shane, at least not before the man became a real threat. Which he was. He _was._

Rick finally drew closer, and slowed down to take a good look at the bulky, muddy figure kneeling on the hard concrete in front of him. Shane. It _really_ was him. In the flesh. He was alive. _Disturbingly_ alive. Christ. Not a walker.

God. How?

The man was facing him expectantly, hands tied behind his back, dirty-looking, covered in dirt and dried blood, yet completely unscathed.

"We bumped into him on the way back." Daryl explained loud enough for him to hear from the distance still separating them. "He says he was trying to find us. The _Governor_ sent him this way."

"He didn’t put up a fight." Michonne added, analyzing their faces to grasp from their expressions what she didn't know yet. "We searched him. He didn’t hide any weapon."

When Rick was finally close enough, he drew out his gun and pointed it square to Shane’s face.

"Come on, Rick!" His former partner drawled with an insolent sneer. "Not again!"

 

  

 

Orders are barked - " _Inside! Keep watch. Carl, take away Judith. In Block C. Untie him. Leave us alone."_  - until at last he's facing Shane in the first empty corridor he can lay hands on in the abandoned Block C. He doesn’t bother to go farther. Before him, in the relative darkness of the narrow hallway, his old friend rubs his sore wrists, but otherwise doesn’t look him in the eyes yet. When he does, it’s between thick eyelashes, cowardly - or warily, maybe. His eyes here look black as coal.

"You were dead." Rick states, his voice thick with prickling water, because this is the first important thing to say.

"I wasn't."

"I _killed_ you! I damn well know it, I _stabbed_ you!"

Damn it. The gun is blindly back between them when he can’t see anymore for a second and has to blink several times. That night... The feeling of the blade breaking Shane's tender flesh and cracking ribs. The soft gasp of surprise, not of pain, but  _surprise_.

Betrayal makes such quiet noises.

Rick gulps down broken glass.  _Shit._

"You didn’t kill me." Shane repeats, drawing closer when a sob breaks Rick’s chest in half. He shouldn’t _feel_ so much just hearing his wretched deep voice again. The Colt Python rises to the man's head, stopping Shane where he stands. 'Look Rick, I’m unarmed and there’s only the two of us here. I’m not asking you to throw away your gun, but can you at least let me talk?”

"Talk? You want to _talk_?" He asks in disbelief, emphasizing his words by moving up and down his gun turned on the side. He can’t see a damn thing because of the tears drowning his eyes. “You mothe- You want to _talk_ now? You had to make me _kill_ my best friend to realize you wanted to talk? What do you want to talk about, Shane?" - His name, so painful, scraping his throat, making him dizzy, Shane, Shane,  _Shane,_ the forbidden name - 'There’s nothing left for you here! _She’s gone_!"

Then - there's silence. The only thing Shane does is blink very slowly, swallowing his sorrow in the process. His two hands are raised next to his own head. Carefully, slowly measuring his words, he refutes, 'There’s the baby… Judith?'

Rick's dormant hatred immediately burst into flames. That’s... the _worst_ possible thing Shane could have said. All of a sudden fear explodes in his stomach, mixes with the anger wetting his tight throat, and suddenly Shane is backed up against a wall with the gun shoved under his chin.

" _She’s mine.'"_ Rick growls in a low, angry voice. "Stay away from her."

"Okay, okay. I know. I just want to make sure she’s fine."

"Is that why you’re back? Making sure _my_ baby is fine and then leave?"

"No." He answers, "Not just for that."

"Why are you here?" He questions in demanding shout when he can’t repress his growing rage. He can't breathe - _have to do it again, watch the life leave his eyes, again._  "Why aren’t you _dead_ , Shane? Last time I saw you, you dragged me into a trap to kill me and you - You _forced_ me to - I plunged the knife in your chest! I thought you were -"

He's done. Without warning Rick breaks into painful sobs, openly crying now, his head falling on Shane’s shoulder. It feels like his heart is tearing itself apart all over again. God, he didn’t have time to mourn Shane, he realizes. He entirely dismissed the loss of his best friend just like he hasn't been able to face Lori’s death.  _They were both dead. You were so alone._

Are.

Rick doesn’t let go of the gun though, and Shane knows better than to embrace him, so his arms stay put next to his own head, but his face does turn to him to say in a firm, soothing voice, "I know. Saying sorry and that I was an idiot won’t ever begin to cover what I’ve done. But I’m sorry, man. I really am. All of this is my fault. I know it is, I’m not playing culprit so that you can be good cop with me.' They had been cops and colleagues, in another life. 'I - I know. I fucking lost it. There was that first day in Atlanta when I lost everything and we lost you, and then Lori, and then you - You didn’t have a choice, I _get that,_ Rick. Hell, I would’ve made the choice you made too if I were in your shoes. I would've put me down sooner, if I'm honest."

Rick hears the warm sound of Shane's smile in his ear, and he straightens his spine up by supporting himself with his free hand against the wall to look into the man's eyes. His brows are oddly furrowed in concern ; his entire face screaming is plea to be trusted - dark eyes shining and mouth shut, everything calling out for Rick's gaze.

"I just needed to find you, all of you, back."

"I can’t trust you, you know that."

"Of course. Not yet. Let me prove it to you. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ve been looking for you ever since."

"There's no _yet_ , Shane. I’ll never be able to trust you the same way I did, after what happened."

"You have to, Rick." He says. "I’ve missed you." Always so forward. "Since that day you went to the hospital, I’ve missed you so much and I’ve never found you back."

"It's _not_ my fault!" He shouts, digging the gun in Shane’s skin, lifting his head up.

"Yeah, 'course not." He agrees, and swallows with difficulty from the awkward angle he's forced to maintain. "It’s mine, I know. I’ll told you over and over if you want me to : yeah, everything is my fault, I’m _sorry_. Let me make it right. I came to apologize and to tell you I can’t live without you and Carl. And the baby."

"Why is that my problem, hm? Why should I _care_?"

"Because you need my help. You know deep down that I wouldn’t harm them, and you need me to keep them safe."

"Staying alive _would_  keep them safe. How do I know you’re not here to kill me and take my place in the group?"

"I’m not. And I couldn’t. Seriously, look at them all, listening to you and bowing to every single shit you drop. I want to be part of that. I would bow to you. I’ll do everything, just ask. You’ll see."

The tension between them is dense enough to be stifling, but Rick can’t resist the banter. He doesn’t smile when he answers, but he does lower the gun, putting back on the security, "Maybe I could literally make you do just that."

Shane chuckles in a quiet laugh, "Your shit is gold for me if you say it is."

Rick averts his gaze, trying to assess the situation. He knows what he wants for himself - he's lost so much - : he's never confused when it comes to listen to his instincts , deciding what’s _best_ _for everyone_ is the most difficult part of his new responsibilities. Of course, Shane could be lying through his teeth. Hell, he could well have been sent by the Governor for all Rick knew. Being wrong would result in endangering the group. He would expose his children to the man he had killed to protect them in the first place. But deep inside, a silly voice is trying to reason with him: _I_ _could keep an eye on him, I could just give it a shot._

As if he guessed what Rick is thinking about, Shane stresses, "You know I’m telling the truth when I say I want to protect Carl. Lori -" Beat. "She’s gone. Let me help. Let me reintegrate the group."

"It won’t be my call." He warns, turning from the side. He made up his mind : he’ll speak to the others about it, since half of them didn’t seem so distressed to see him back. Maybe their decision would make it easier on Rick to throw him out, if anything. "But if you want me to agree to that, you better prove right now you're going to obey me."

"I’m all ears." Shane agrees, shrugging to show his truthfulness

"Show me."

There’s an odd moment of intense wavering during which Shane looks for Rick’s eyes. When their gazes lock though, he surprisingly goes down slowly, very slowly to his knees, and puts his hands behind his head. Looks up. Rick thinks Shane never looked so vulnerable - yes, of course he had, especially with all that happened recently. But Shane’s hazel eyes are shining with something close to innocence under his arched eyebrows.

Then, Shane glances guardedly at the gun, and bares his neck slowly in submission, looking his way sideways. Getting the cue, Rick points his Colt Python where the tender skin of his neck meets his trapezius muscle. Only a nerve nearby tenses. A pleased sense of power then runs through Rick’s veins. If only they could’ve done that in the recent past. The urge to shoot would’ve been overwhelming, of course. It almost is, right now.

A pressure of his index, a deafening echo, and back to the way he was half an hour ago.

But he's curious to see how far he can carry it before Shane breaks and everyone is disappointed, Rick included.

"If you’re to stay with us," He begins through his teeth, "You're going to listen to everything I say. You'll obey me and trust me with your safety and the safety of the group. No question, no _fight_. If you cause disagreements, you’re out. If you’re responsible for anything turning south, you’re out. You lay so much as a finger on my kids and I kill you. You try to turn your back on me, I kill you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Rick," he answers flatly, making his Adam apple bobble from the weird angle. "You’re the boss and I’m fucking shit. Can you just go back to the part about the kids? I really want to take care of Carl even if right now he must rightfully hate my face."

" _No,"_  Rick growls, digging the gun in the nerves, forcing Shane to sit back on his heels and wince in pain. "He's _my_ son, and Judith is _my_ daughter. If you want to speak with them, you ask me first. If you want to give advice to Carl, you shut your fucking mouth. I lead the group. You follow my orders, and Carl and Judith are _my_ children. Do you get that?"

His jaw is clenched now, but he doesn’t move. "Yes."

"I want you to repeat what I said."

Rick receives a nasty glare, but a few seconds later, through gritted teeth, Shane enunciates, "Your lead. I follow. Carl… and the baby are - they're your children."

A few seconds elapse. They stay like this, shadowy figures in the dark, immobile in the unusual silence of the new world, and Shane never turns down his eyes. He doesn’t even seem bothered to be in such a situation. So, after a moment, Rick puts back his gun in its holster. He doesn’t speak yet, though. Instead, he grabs the man’s neck where it is exposed and suddenly tears it away a bit more to very obviously assert his dominance over him. Shane carefully lets himself be handled but doesn’t stop looking at him even though he can’t possibly really see Rick's face.

When he’s satisfied with the way Shane has stretched bare his nape without a fight for his wounded pride, Rick take his hand off the hot skin and says, "I’ll take the night to think about it. I’m going to lock you up here until then."

Shane nods and takes the offered hand. "Fine. Water and food, maybe?"

"I’ll have Daryl bring it for you." He agrees, his voice already warmer because of the friendly contact.

This is not good. This shouldn’t feel this easy. Nothing like the deep loss and harrowing anger he had felt for so long could be erased with only an hour and a surprising resurrection though, so when he does lock him up, standing before him across the bars, Rick warns with a touch of sarcasm, "You better pray everybody agrees with my way of _dealing with prisoners_ this time."

"I’ve got nothing to lose, do I?" Shane throws his way before he turns to leave.

 

 

 

 


	2. Their New Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and the group wonder whether Shane must stay among them. As expected, this isn't a consensus.

 

 

 

 

Careful, silent, Carl took a quick glance over his shoulder once more. He had to be quick. Dad would get so mad if he knew where he was about to -

“I knew you’d sneak your way in, you nosy imp.” Daryl’s voice suddenly said from where he was hidden in the shadows.

Carl startled. Okay, Daryl wasn’t really _hidden_. He was simply casually leaning against the back door of Block C, busy sharpening arrows. He couldn’t believe he had been caught so easily.

“What are you doing here? Are you Dad’s guard dog or something?” Carl asked out of spite.

“I’m my own guard dog, that’s quite enough. And you could use one, you know? You were going to speak with him, weren't ya? He tried to kill your dad. What were you looking for? A little chat and damn tea?”

Carl smirked and picked his gun from behind his back. Daryl actually huffed in amusement, but before he got the wrong idea, Carl clarified, 'I wasn't planning on using it. I’m sure Shane's cool now. I’ll wait for Dad’s go-ahead to trust him around Judith, I guess, but… I guess I just wanted to make sure. That I wasn’t wrong. And he must feel lonely.”

Daryl shrugged. '‘Don’t give a damn.'

“You’re responsible for bringing him meals, aren’t you?” He asked then.

“Yeah. I’m the lucky guy.”

“I can do it if you don’t want to. I’ll be careful. I won’t stay long.”

“Not a chance. Now go before I tell Rick.”

“So you are going to let him alone inside until tomorrow?” Carl didn’t quite like the idea. Sure, he and his dad had fought badly at the farm - they fought to _death_ \- but he had never been able to be mad with Shane. Probably because he didn’t know for sure why they had fought in the first place. He had an idea, though. He had meant to ask him, but his chance was ruined. “You can talk to him a bit, you know. That may help dad take his decision.”

“Sure.” He grumbled wryly. “I’ll do that.”

There was nothing else he could do for now, was it? Carl sighed through his nose and turned his heels. It didn’t matter, he reflected sullenly, Dad hadn’t killed Shane yet and didn’t even sound like he wanted to . He’ll stay, he just knew it.

When he had spotted his former friend, Dad had looked furious, but hurt too. Shane coming back from the dead would almost means as much - not _as much_ \- as Mom suddenly coming back. She couldn’t, though. Carl had killed her himself with a shot in the head. On the other hand, he just had to wait until tomorrow to see Shane again.

 

 

 

“So Shane is going to reintegrate the group.” Carol casually said that evening when Rick walked in the refectory where she was washing dishes, tepid water angrily marking the tender skin of her pale hands.

“I don’t know yet. I haven’t made up my mind. I wished to speak about it with the group tomorrow.”

Carol questioningly glanced in his direction above her shoulders. She seemed to find whatever answer she'd been looking for though, because she returned to her task and didn’t speak for a few seconds. If she was surprised with Rick asking advice instead of just taking the decision, she didn’t show it. Nor did she show that she was secretly pleased to be Rick’s unspoken confident. She felt so much affection and respect for him.

“You know,” She said at last, “It’s okay to feel like you want him back.”

“I don’t _know_ if I want him back.” Rick admitted while coming closer, clearly taking the invitation to talk about it. “All of this… It was behind me. Behind us all. I had moved on.”

"Had you?"

The question shocked Rick into a reflective silence for a second. He didn't answer.

“Well…” She reflected, absentmindedly looking at the grey and dirty tilting in front of her, “Would you rather shoot him in the head or welcome him back?”

“Both.”

She then turned to him, a gentle yet unmistakably amused smile on her lips.

“Well, that’s fine too.”

Carol looked so sincere that Rick had to let out a laugh. “I didn’t shoot him, that night. But I’m sure stabbing counts when it comes to your best friend.”

“Did you feel good doing it?” She asked slowly, her eyes pointedly on the dishes.

“ _No_.” Rick stressed. “It felt - I lost it when I did it. Shane coming back, it’s like -” He rubbed a hand over his eyes and sighed deeply.

“You have your answer then.”

“Even if I don’t end up shooting him by the end of the day, it doesn’t make this the _right_ choice.” He argued, irritation sparkling. “I need to protect everybody from any threat, and he is -”

“I know what he was.” She cut in, “I’m just saying that people can change, and when I say that I don’t mean he might have changed since we left him that night at the farm, but that he had changed _back then_. You couldn’t recognize him, could you? Is he not a bit more like the one you used to know?” She turned to him and quietly analyzed his face. “I’m just saying I trust you, Rick. Personally ’ll stand by you tomorrow when you will tell the others that you want him to stay.”

He discreetly released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. Rick felt like thanking Carol, but instead he simply nodded. She was the one to wipe her hands with the dish towel before touching his arm. “Now, get out of here. I just cleaned this spot.”

 

 

 

Fuck, twenty-four hours was a long time to wait. They had straight out forgotten him, Shane thought at one point, but the light of the sun was still shining through the window near the ceiling outside his cell. He had spent the night here - and that part hadn’t been a tough deal at all. God, that was the first time he had been able to actually _sleep_ more than a couple of hours in _months_.

He'd found a group a few weeks back or more, and yeah, he could have rested at the time, but somehow he had felt even worse with them. They had all felt wrong, different from his former group on top of being a bunch of psychos, and he had left with the man, his wife and their daughter in the middle of the night when he had been sure they were about to get themselves killed or worse. Wife and daughter eaten and dead, and again on the road by himself. The widow had wanted to go south, but Rick was supposed to be east. So Shane had gone east alone.

Did they sleep in those beds every night? That prison was like a fucking five-star hostel by those days standards. I mean, of course the beds were ridiculously tiny, but he felt like he would rather remain prisoner here than going outside ever again.

After eighteen hours, he began thinking otherwise.

What was taking them so damn long? He let out an amused sigh when he remembered the last time he had seen Rick handling a prisoner situation. If they went through the whole voting-and-sharing-their-feelings thing, he would be here for a while. Well, he didn’t mind it if in the end it meant he could stay . After all, he didn’t even know what he would do if he had to leave. He had just figured Rick would shoot him. But if he was stripped of everything - Lori he had kissed the idea goodbye months ago when he had realized he wanted to come back, but then he would lose his baby too - Judith -, and Carl, and his best friend. It sounded too depressing a life.

God, what had happened to Lori?

Suddenly he heard the squeaking, rusty sound of the door. Immediately, he stood on his two feet and dusted himself distractedly. Unhurried, regular footsteps, and then Shane was facing the huge, muscular black man he had seen the day before among the group. With the two other black women, they were the only new people, as far as he knew. Without a word, the man opened the door. To his surprise, he extended a hand to him.

“Name's Tyreese. Wanna go out? Rick’s waiting for you.”

“Sure.” He said, shaking his hand. He felt like his chest was too tight for everything he was feeling, but he tamed his emotions into a simple apprehension. Not being tied gave him hope though. “I’m Shane.”

“I know.” Tyreese chuckled, eyebrows high. And they left the building from the left, going through corridors darker even than the one he had spoken in with Rick.

By the time they arrived in the block where everybody seemed to live and then in the cafeteria where they were all gathered and waiting, Shane had understood that he was not to ask questions until his fate had been officially settled. That was fine with him. He only wished to speak with Rick now anyway, and with Andrea, since the kid was out of question and Lori… When he stopped, everybody was looking at him - definitely a hostile public, not good. What, so was this going to be a fucking trial or something?

On the left, he spotted the figure of Carl, but he quickly turned his eyes aside to look at Rick. The man was standing in the middle of the tables, fingers on the waistband of his jeans. A true cowboy he was, Shane thought with an inner smile that, in the end, showed on his lips.

“Hey.” Shane said.

On his left, Carl answered, “Hey Shane!” but he ignored the kid purposely. Damn, he only had one friend in this joyful gathering, and he couldn’t even talk to him. Speaking about friends…

“Where's Andrea? She wasn’t here yesterday either.”

He had seen Rick briefly shake his head this way during their police missions so many times, painful and silent, to understand what it meant even without the sudden and tense silence that followed - the same they had given for Lori. Andrea. Damn it girl, I taught you how to use a gun, didn't I? Where did you screw up? His throat constricted for a second.

“Well, that sucks. She deserved to make it.”

“Everybody here does.” Hershel’s daughter said - the one sleeping with Glenn.

 _Maggie_ , that was it.

“Yeah, of course y'all do.” He must have sounded like a stinky boot-licker.

Hopefully, Rick stepped in next, breaking the awkward silence, “Out, Carl.”

Well, that wasn’t what he had expected.

“But Dad -”

“He’s going to be around for a while, don’t worry. I’m not going to kill him. Go. Beth.”

The girl seemed reluctant, but she eventually answered, “I’ll watch over him.” and they both went.

“You not killing me comes as a relief.” He joked with a smile, but he realized he had a better chance to make walkers laugh at this point. He maybe had a chance with Glenn? No, he decided after a quick glace in the Asian boy's direction. Walkers, definitely.

“Nobody really wants you to stay.” Rick explained, “You tried to kill me and you endangered our stay at the farm. Not everything is related to that, but I had to explain why you acted the way you acted. I told them for Lori.”

Shane was speechless for a second - and kind of embarrassed too, mostly for Rick. But that was the past, and it’s not like most people hadn’t guess at the time. If Rick wanted the secret out, it wasn’t his problem. It’s not like Lori had actually cheated on Rick anyway. One question remained though, “Carl? Does he know?”

“No.” Well, that was certainly better this way “You’re going to stay. Under the same conditions as anybody. But I want you to sleep in another block for now, and you’re not allowed anywhere near the exit gate.”

“Alright.” That wasn’t so bad. He decided to go through all of this now. “Weapons?”

“Yes.”

“I took yours to your bedroom.” Carol said, and he nodded once in her direction. Man, the woman looked stiff.

“Anything else I should be aware of? How does it work?” He asked, gesturing between the all of them because he sensed like something was different. “Are we still under that democracy thing? Am I deprived of my citizen right to vote or something?”

“I lead.” Rick said. They both exchanged a short, meaningful gaze filled with echos of their last conversation. “You can still try to give me advice, but I think you will often shove it up anywhere you want.” When Shane smiled not to laugh out loud while the corners of Rick’s lips twitched not to outwardly turn up, even though he himself remained deadly serious. Shane felt like his chest was warming up all of a sudden, and it was hard not to smile some more.

“I’ll remember that.”

“I don’t think you will.” Hershel’s voice suddenly raised up and heads turned to him, Shane’s included. “Sorry to say it Rick, but I think Shane caused too much trouble to be nothing else but a threat or at least a source of disagreement between us.”

“Hershel, we’ve been over this. I thought you -”

“Sorry Rick, It’s really hard for me to believe otherwise.”

That was the spark that caused the blaze. Other voices raised up, mixing, raising, loud and louder. “ _Rick, maybe you should reconsider…_ ”, _“dangerous”, “crazy”,_ “ _near the children?_ ” and all at once Shane’s contained frustration exploded inside his stomach.

Oh no, you're not going to take me out now.

He strode towards Rick.

Before people could do more than shout a warning, he fell on his knees before him. When he understood, Rick instantly recovered from his sudden startle - and he let go of his gun still sheltered inside its holster. Then, copying the posture he had done the day before, Shane’s hands landed behind his own head, and he craned his naked neck, resisting the wild feeling to cover it and protect himself. If there was somebody left in this insane world Shane would do it for, it was for him. There was a time where he wouldn’t even have blinked before handing his life to Rick. Of course since, they had tried to kill each other.

Everybody was dead silent by now.

“Come on,” Shane urged, “Do it.”

He was aware of the show he was putting on, but it seemed to work, because nobody stirred nor spoke when Rick brought his Colt Python out to drive it on the skin above his collar bone. It was cold. Shane’s heart raced, his senses altered with adrenaline, but he didn’t move a damn inch.

“Say it.” Rick asked.

He had to swallow first, but while looking up at him - he would’ve liked to look at Hershel but damn he couldn’t, couldn’t submit to anyone but Rick, bloody pride - he said loud enough for everybody to hear, “Your lead. I follow.” He added as he was meant to, “They’re your children.”

And the gun retreated - the metallic clinking being the only sound in the entire room. Shane breathed deeply while looking at Rick, his oddly inexpressive eyes, the blank face mixed with disgust or anger that Shane faced since Rick had learnt for him and Lori. The gun was replaced by Rick's calloused, beloved hand who bared his neck ruthlessly. Shane didn’t resist, didn’t look down from the satisfied glint behind Rick’s eyes - fuck, it was hard not to, but he at least owed the man that.

Finally, he let go of him.

Shane got up and went on with looking at Rick because, well, he didn’t really know who to look second to the leader. Nor did he care. He felt like everybody was waiting for him to speak though, so he assured Hershel, “I’ll listen to Rick. That'll have to be good enough, sorry.” There were a lot of things he was sorry for, but this wasn’t one of them. He guessed he could say it from time to time to make up for the rest though.

Rick's voice was firm, “This was a trying evening. You’re free to go to bed whenever you want, but you should go, Shane. I’ll talk to you tomorrow morning.”

He nodded and followed Daryl who made a gesture in his direction without a word. Up above on the first floor, Carl was hidden in the shadows, pressing against bars. “Goodnight,” The boy whispered.

Shane had to turn his head aside, and it hurt some more.

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Sorrowful Truce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although Rick had made sure the orders were simple. Shane has trouble remembering them all, it would seem.  
> No one will blame him for this one, though.

 

 

 

Rick kept his word : he did talk to Shane on the morning after. And he had been right - the evening had been so trying despite Shane's boring and uneventful day as a prisoner that he overslept and, when Rick arrived, he was dead to the world, an arm and a leg hanging from the bed, his mouth wide open. Shane would never know about this though, because Rick left wordlessly and only came back two hours later when the man was fully rested, standing, and lazily streching out.

“Hey.” Shane greeted as soon as he spotted him. “What’s that?”

He watched Rick putting a plate of food on the small table resting against the wall of his cell. “Your breakfast.”

“Don’t we all eat in this cafeteria out there ?” He snorted when he realized his mistake, “Yeah of course, I can’t go. Sorry, too much sleep, I guess.”

Rick actually smiled at the remark which triggered old memories, the rare view wasted to the plate he kept staring at, and teased, “You bet you had too much sleep. Breakfast was served three hours ago. Carol kept a plate for you," he explaiined, gesturing to the plate, "that’s why I bring it to you here, you’re welcome to come and eat and spend the day in our block. You were always the worst late-riser when we did sleepovers.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry about that.” He apologized with a sheepish while scratching the back of his head. “You were bored to death waiting for me to get up when you slept at my place when we were kids, you were too shy to have breakfast alone with my parents.”

“Only when I was younger.”

“Yeah.”

Talking about a happier past was the easier option, but it wouldn’t exactly erase what had happened since. During those harsh months alone, Shane had banged his stubborn, hot-headed head into a more humble one. Or at least, humble was what he was planning to become again. He had decided to go down the road of redemption when he would find Rick, and like hell he was going to give it up now.

“You know,” Shane started, absentmindedly looking sideways at the wall and putting his restless hands on his waist to better still them, “I guess it’s pretty obvious, but I’m grateful for everything you’re doing for me. I’m not saying it's ever going to be enough, but I - I’ll do anything to help.”

Way to go man, let's make this awkward silence even worse. Jeez, he had just stuttered like he had in his teens with his first crush Stacey. But the thing was, that Shane felt way more uncomfortable now than he had been with girls, because it was _Rick_ and his friend knew him too damn well and he must’ve _known_ he was feeling super awkward.

But the Rick he had been friend with had long been killed the day he had slept with Lori; he didn’t even acknowledge what Shane had said.

Instead, he stepped out of his bedroom and simply told him as he left, “I found out what I needed you to do here. We're planning on living here long term, and we found panels of glass in another block. I want to grow a garden.”

“So you want me to build a greenhouse.” Shane guessed.

“Can you do that?”

“Of course. I will.”

“Fine. But it shouldn’t take most of your time. I want you near the main block watching my kids. Carl, Beth and Judith are usually on their own and there’s only so much Carol can oversee. So if you could... patrol and make sure everything’s okay... We cleared every block by now, just so you know.”

“Okay.” Shane nodded. “Sure. I’ll do that.”

He didn’t know exactly if Rick had come up with watching over Carl and the baby without talking to them as an indulgence or as a punishment but, in any case, to Shane it definitely felt like bittersweetly twisting the knife in the wound.

 

 

 

A full week passed before he severely broke his promise for the first time. Shane wasn’t sure how Rick wanted him close to Carl without actually interacting with the curious and concerned boy who didn’t have a clue what was going on.

On the second day, Shane had had to quietly look around and explain to Carl,“Listen buddy. I’m not mad at you and I’m sure as hell glad you’re not mad at me. But I can’t speak with you. Maybe if I show your father I can be trusted I’ll be able to, later. I don’t know. For now… I’m sorry, but you have to go.”

Carl had looked at him with those serious eyes of his on his young face - he ridiculously looked like a younger Rick - and nodded, 

“Okay," he agreed, a flicker of grave understanding shimmering in his eyes, "Just know… that I’m here, even if we can’t speak.”

He had left Shane dumbstruck for a few seconds as he'd watched Carl run back to his little sister. God, the boy was growing fast. So young, and already a tiny man. That would happen in a world where death lurked at every corner and had eaten your mother alive.

Lori, how could you leave him?

A full week passed, then, before Shane severely broke his promise. To ensure that he wouldn't break it, he had been to great lengths: he didn’t mix with the others - which suited him just fine, because he felt like he didn’t belong with them anyway, and it was easier to ignore Carl and Shane's crying daughter - so that meant that he usually ate alone, or with Rick (and Carol who was always around, but she remained far from him); and he kept himself busy working outside as much as he could when he knew the kids didn’t need him. During the day, he sat in the shade to watch them play, discuss or whatever, following them without a word when they decided to go inside.

The most intimate exchange he had that week with Rick occurred at night when Shane walked by him and wished him goodnight. The man had answered with a brief nod. Even _that_ had been a success: Shane knew he should have been outside, running for his life and hiding like a wild beast, crushing rotten skulls, sweating, hungry, killing people for food and ammo, hating himself for losing the only people he cared about. He felt so lucky he couldn’t sleep for hours that night.

Everything wasn’t easy, though: the toughest part was the baby. He couldn’t go near his daughter even when she was crying for hours on end and he felt like running to warn Rick or steal a car and look for himself if there wasn’t baby medicine or whatever shit he could've found in town.

Of course, Judith was well taken care of. She seemed to be a very plump baby - which was a blessing in these times - even if, had things been different, Shane would’ve asked the mother to milk her some more. He couldn’t be sure _Judith_ was okay though, because he couldn’t watch her as he wanted... and feared to. Every night, he would watch Rick take her small figure into his arms, drive her safe with him in his bed, and it sure was the best time of Shane’s day to see proof that the baby was loved. Security aside, he trusted Rick with his life on that matter.

Shane would never have been half the father Rick was.

A full week passed, then, before Shane severely broke his promise.

The sun was high and blazing. His shirt had been wet with sweat and clinging to his skin for a long time now, even though he was sitting in the shade, on the opposite side of where Beth and Carl where playing with Judith, holding long blades of grass to her so that she could try and grasp some with her tiny hands. She was clumsy, making Shane smile to himself. Carl got up and went to the grass again, seemingly spotting the beautiful red flower not far away. He snatched it and, all of a sudden, raced farther away. Shane’s gaze forked to Beth, who was oblivious, and then back to Carl. He disappeared behind the hill. After the hill were the barb-wire fences, and the exit gate.

“Hey!” Shane called, swiftly getting up and rushing forward.

He ran as fast as he could to the top of the hill and spotted the boy moving down to the right. The sly... He followed, coming closer and closer with each long stride, and by the time he arrived next to Carl who had suddenly stopped without as much as a look back, Shane was slightly out of breath. Running, Shane was used to it. To fear? Not so much.

“What were you thinking?” He barked, anger spiking in his voice. “Go back up so that I can watch the three of you. You can run as much as you want up the hill.”

Carl turned to him with a start, just like if he hadn’t seen him yet. “Sorry, Shane,” he promptly apologized, “I just found a flower for mom.”

Shane’s heart broke instantly, so bad it felt like the breathless night Rick had stabbed him in the chest. His eyes wearily turned down, and yes, it was there, right at their feet: Lori’s tomb. God, oh God no.

“It’s stupid I know, she’s not even under here. Dad found her body after we made this. I knew where it was, Shane. I just couldn’t go, and I was afraid he'd see something that'd make things worse for him. I was right. It’s so _childish_ bringing flowers, I’m going to stop, I -”

“Don’t you ever stop.” He tried to warn, but he realized his voice was full of tears. Carl's face turned to his to see them, too. Shane cleared his throat. “You’re not stupid, buddy. Your mom loved you so damn much and you know that'd make her happy to know you think about her. I didn’t know where you were heading, otherwise I would’ve let you go alone.”

“No, it’s fine if you come along. She liked you too.”

Carl looked at him with a smile so honest Shane had to clench his teeth. Then the boy fidgeted, clearly uneasy, but determination shone in his bright, Rick-like eyes.

“I meant to ask… Y-You loved her, didn’t you? Not just as a friend? That’s why Dad was so mad. I overheard the other day, but I already suspected.”

Shane froze. His breath quickly grew shallow and stunned when he realized Carl wasn’t angry.

“Yeah, yeah I did.” He confessed in a breath, meaning to justify Rick’s rightful reaction instead of his own. “That’s partly why we fought. I was so wrong, buddy. I could’ve loved you and protected you and your mom both without doing what I did to my best friend, trust me. But your mother never once stopped loving your father, don’t you ever doubt that.”

He had meant to reassure Carl, but realized while he said it out loud that he now believed what he was saying. That hurt, but some things had hurt deeper, since.

“I don’t. I know she loved him.” The boy said - okay, that was a blow. “I just… Sometimes I wish I hadn’t been so childish when she was alive. Maybe we would've talked more instead of her just telling me to _go home_ and behave.”

“Hey, hey hey no, no don’t you say things like that.” Shane pressed when he saw Carl turn down his head and fisting his hands. He put a knee down to see his face and grabbed his tiny shoulders. “Your mother loved every single thing about you. Even arguing. I swear.”

To his surprise, Carl jumped into his arms and sniffed loudly to contain his sobs. Like father like son, he reflected with a tender smile before returning the embrace eagerly. Damn. It felt so good to feel his tiny body back against him. He breathed, filling his lungs excessively. God, he had missed him.

A few seconds elapsed before he heard noises in the distance. Shane turned his head to see Rick running down the hill at full speed. Fuck. He stood immediately, curtly disentangling himself from Carl and stepping back, but the next second Rick was catching Shane by the collar and shoving him back down on his knees by Lori's tomb.

“ _What are you doing?_ ” He demanded from behind him, loading the gun pointed at his skull in a distinctive _click_.

“Dad!”

“Woh, woh Rick, easy! I’m sorry! Carl -”

“Don’t you - don’t _talk_ to my son! What are you doing here? What are you doing _here_? You have no right - That’s -”

He could feel the hand holding his shoulder shaking. The gun was trembling, too. Shane was looking straight ahead of him, in Carl’s eyes wide with fear. That grounded him.

“Okay, okay Rick. Fine. I’m sorry. I know what you said about speaking to your kids. Just. Please. Not in front of Carl. Look at Carl, Rick. Look at him.”

“Sorry, Dad!” The boy promptly said when, Shane assumed, Rick listened to him. “It’s my fault. I went running this way and Shane got scared and followed me! He wasn’t doing anything _wrong!”_

A few incredibly long and tense seconds went by like this, Shane’s head partly bowed into submission by the gun forcing him down, both his hands raised next to his head. Rick’s breathing gradually slowed to a measured, calculated rhythm. Finally, his voice shaking with tamed fury, he said, “Shane _knows_ what we said about what he did. I need to speak with him. Go.”

“Not if you’re going to kill him.” Carl bravely replied, defying his father with a strong glare. That’s my boy, Shane thought proudly. Now go, it’s a grown men business.

“Listen to your father, Carl.” Shane advised before he could stop himself. God, he sucked at not parenting the kid. “I messed up, that’s my fault.”

Carl looked between the two of them, partly turning away. Before leaving, he viciously warned, “If you kill him, I'll _never_ forgive you.”

Man, some pressure he was putting on his dad.

Both men stayed like this until Carl had disappeared and stopped looking their way. Then Shane tried again, “Listen, Rick. I know. I’m sorry. I -”

“Shut up. I trusted you. I told you not to talk with Carl or to touch him, otherwise I'd put you down.”

“You did. Hey. Remember that part about your son never forgiving you?”

“Do you think I’m _joking_?” Rick painfully pressed the Colt Python into the base of his skull, making him wince in pain. Okay, brightening the mood wasn't a good idea.

“No. You’re not, sorry. I just - Can I explain?”

The little laugh escaping Rick’s lips was nothing near amused.

“You wanna explain, Shane? Please do. Lori’s listening. Something to say about why you slept with her, huh? Why are you near _our_ son?”

Shane clenched his teeth when he heard Lori’s name. He retorted, “Why did you want me back if you’re that pissed off at me?”

For all answer, the Colt Python dug deeper into his skin. Shane slowly breathed in, and said pointedly for the last time, “I’m sorry Rick, I messed up. I did start talking to Carl, but your kid clearly needs comforting. I'm _not_ saying you don’t already give that to him,” he stressed when the gun hurt him some more, “but he needs as much friends as he can get right now. He hugged me on his own. He did that. And I’m not sorry for not turning him down.”

Damn it, he needed to make Rick understand that he wasn’t planning on stepping on his ground. Having Carl back and staying close to Judith was what was _right_ of him because he had to protect the children, but he wanted Rick’s friendship back for himself. Because he had never lived without it. So... slowly, very slowly, to make Rick understand he was still under his command, Shane started to bare his neck in a mimicry of the position they had held lately. Christ on a fucking _bike_ , that was so much harder now that he was actually threatened. Shane stretched his neck until he felt his nerves pulsing with blood and adrenaline... and waited.

Rick’s gun moved to stop on his carotid artery. A slight pressure of his index finger, Shane reflected, and it was over.

“Your lead.” Shane enunciated with conviction, “I follow.” Then he tried to glance at Rick above him, and met the blue eyes dead and wan with past fears. “Carl and Judith are your children.”

He waited.

And waited.

The gun retreated, and Shane actually closed his eyes in relief. He didn’t open them when he felt Rick’s hand touching him and sliding across his skin and neck until it was under his chin and ear, keeping up with the dominating ritual. But he shivered. Adrenaline truly was making him sensitive.

He couldn’t help but like the feeling of Rick's hand on his skin - known, approving. Back then, Shane had always loved receiving a tap on the shoulder or a manly hug from Rick. He missed those. He didn’t find any difficulty in letting Rick slowly craning his nape. When he was completely bared and submitted, Rick secured and pressed his grip against his throat.

“Don’t ever disobey me again, Shane. Do you hear me?”

“I do.” He awkwardly croaked before swallowing. “I won’t. Never again.”

The fingers let go immediately and slipped back along his neck and shoulders until he heard Rick falling to the ground. When he turned around, Shane saw him watching Lori’s tomb, mouth partly open in agony and eyes wet with unshed tears. Rick looked utterly vulnerable. Shane had to restrain himself not to move.

“I can hear her sometimes.” He confessed in a gravelly voice, his eyes unfocused. “In my _head_. She’s there, Shane. I see her.”

His heart throbbed. He looked at his friend, felt the sorrow he couldn’t truly share with him. When he whispered, “She’s _angry…_ ” though, Shane fell on his side next to Rick and grabbed his shoulder to make him face him.

“No, she’s not. She could never stay angry with you for long. Don’t say that, you know her more than anyone else.”

Rick blinked and suddenly looked like he was finally seeing him, for the first time in a week, like he had been forced to acknowledge it was Shane being back with them, for the first time in a week, as if he had just discovered his oldest friend under the skin of a man he hadn't been able recognize and, precisely because Shane wouldn’t handle more silly comments about Lori, and because he felt guilty for not thinking about what Rick was going through with the loss of the only love of his life, he brought the man to his chest and held him there firmly, burying his face in the man's neck in the process. It was warm here - comforting. Rick smelled like sweat and wildness, his natural smell much stronger now that they couldn’t bath everyday. Shane liked it.

“‘Sorry this’s happening to you.” He managed to mumble through the fabric of his shirt. “It will never be enough, but I’m here. I want to be here because you are. Don’t lose it on us.”

He heard Rick gulping and nodding, grabbing his shoulder from behind. That’s how Shane knew it was okay to lie down on the grass and enjoy the feeling for a while. The joy of being hugged back ran throughout the veins of his entire body. In fact, for a brief moment, he didn’t even think about Lori’s grave not far away. For a few blessed minutes, it was only the two of them.

  
  
  



	4. His Easy Smiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane is an outright adorable jerk, nobody (except Glenn) remembers who played Two-Face in _Batman: Begins_ , Shane brings back chicks but not the kind you'd expect, and the concept of _platonicity_ is taken to a whole new questionable level.

 

 

 

 

It’s really not by chance, after that, that things slowly begin to shift with Shane. Rick wants them to. He realizes that, even if he had been right to act guarded and suspicious around Shane when he came back, as no one had been sure he wasn't here for revenge, especially not Rick, there is no need to be so much on the defensive now. 

Of course, Rick doesn't revoke every decision he took - he doesn't trust him the way he used to - but, after what happens next to Lori’s grave, things are less tense, or at least he wants them to be. It’s as if... When they bump into each other, there is this warm feeling inside, and they smile tightly to each other, and so little feel so damn _right_ after losing everything, it feels good to know that Shane will maybe be there to watch his back if things turn wrong, just as he used to be.

When they had both came back from Lori’s grave that evening, Carl had been waiting, sitting outside on the concrete ground under the aging, blood-filled twilight. He had spotted them side by side, Shane visibly alive, and had stumbled and scorched his hand in his hurry to get up. Rick had urged him to go inside. For once, Carl had listened, too happy to be disappointed when Shane had dutifully kept his eyes on the ground. 

With the way things had awfully drifted last time, Rick needs to stress his authority from the start and keep Shane under control. He needs Shane to understand that his leadership cannot be questioned. If he can do that... Since he has been back, Rick can’t help but think at the possibilities. If he can bend to him, Shane would be the perfect person to take the lead when he is away, the perfect person to protect the group and to protect his children. Rick isn't blind enough not to see it - that’s precisely why he ordered Shane around the kids in the first place. He had also wanted to test him, and he’s not sure if he really is pissed off about the outcome and if Shane really failed the test.

“We’ll need to go for a look around town soon. We’re getting low on our supply of food again.” Maggie warns one evening. “I was thinking about going with Glenn tomorrow.”

“I can go huntin'.” Daryl offers from the table he’s sitting on, chewing on the last piece of beef jerky that they own as his leg idly dangles to the floor. “ ‘Haven’t been for a while.”

“We’ll do that.” Rick agrees. “I’ll come along.”

He has half a mind to bring Shane with them, but he needs to think about it. Not bringing him would mean letting him here without Rick to supervise, but if he’s honest, he doesn't fear for his kids’ safety. At this point it’s by sheer precaution and it's a matter of territory. Rick wishes everyone goodnight and takes Judith from Beth’s arms. 

It’s already night outside, full moon shining on the bars of his cell, but Judith isn't asleep yet and doesn't even fuss. She seldom does. She's so calm, just like him, even more than Lori was, Rick loves her so much. The fact that she is in good physical health stops him from worrying about her not making many sounds compared to a few weeks ago . He finds Carl standing and toying with his gun inside.

“Hey dad. What’s up?”

“Not much.” He admits. “I may be going in town tomorrow. Is that okay with you?”

Carl shrugs. “I’d like to come but I guess I’ll stay anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He smiles when he sees his boys frowning, still busy with the gun.

The entrance door squeals far away, the sound echoing inside the walls. Rick knows it means Shane just came back from working outside. Carl does, too, because his attention snatches up from what he’s doing for a split second to look up. When he sees Shane walking by, Rick suddenly decides to call him over, “Hey Shane. Come over here.”

The man stops with a suspicious look as he spots both Judith and Carl in one smooth glance, but he hides whatever he’s thinking very well and answers, “Sure.” 

Behind him, Carl stands, too excited to sit down.

“Did you need somethin'?” Shane asks once inside his cell. His voice is neutral, but Rick knows him. The nice phrasing means he’s eager to please. Probably wary, too.

“Yeah.” He answers. “Hold Judith for a second.”

He just has time to see the way Shane freezes with surprise before he hands her daughter over to him and Shane's expression turns to scared.

“W-Wait -”

“It’ll be alright.” He assures gently, damn well remembering the very few times he had held Carl in his arms when he had seemed this fragile.

Rick then drops off Judith inside Shane’s tense arms, not waiting for the man’s answer. He fumbles a little and mostly looks like he’s engulfing an american football ball. He looks even more terrified than what he had been back then. Of course, when it’s your own chil... He can hear Carl laughing behind them, but Shane is not amused at all.

“I'm going to drop her, Rick! Take her back, _take_ _her_ _back_.”

Rick then laughs too, something bubbling inside his stomach and breaking free in his throat like a strange butterfly. The only thing he gets is a wild glare, and he understands in his wild brown gaze that he really is afraid. 

Somewhere closer to his left, Carl begins with a, “You need to…” but stops himself and glances at his dad, biting on his bottom lip, remembering too late he must not speak to him. Rick takes over.

“You need to _relax_. You’re doing it right. Stand upright. Yes, like that. Look, you’re holding her, she’s not even upset.”

Shane is still staring at him, looking pained. He relaxes soon enough though, even if his shoulder muscles are taut and even if he doesn't glance at the baby he yet thinks is her daughter. He seems to wait for whatever Rick wants him to understand, so with a move of his head, he explains, “If something happens, you’ll need to move fast and know how to hold her. You have to practice.”

Shane nods as soon as he understands that’s apparently the reason why Rick is doing that. Of course, it’s not the only one.

“I figured I'd just put her inside a sports bag.” He answers, but Rick knows otherwise.

Rick purposely turns back to sit on his bed, taking his time to show his relaxed state of mind. When he looks up, Shane is adjusting to the situation and looking at her. Actually looking at her for the first time. He hadn't want to miss that first glance for the world.

Shane’s mouth parts slightly when he finally sees her, breathing out and no more in - not immediately. Before he does, he lets his eyes wander over her, her tiny body, tiny fists, over her entire face, her wet mouth, little pink nose and blue eyes, and he’s instantly locked up with her in their own world, in awe, his defined eyebrows slightly frowned in pain and his eyes shining. Shane swallows, and before he suddenly looks up at Rick when he remembers his friend’s watching, Rick has the time to think that her daughter will always be safe with him. He’s a little more than slightly afraid one day Shane would disappear with her, but there’s nothing he can do about that if he’s here, not even keeping him away from his children.

Shane looks up, and away, and he actually hears him mumbling an apology. Rick doesn't react, doesn't even hide his tiny, pleased smile. He only turns to Carl, who’s still fidgeting and who tries to keep quiet.

“It’s getting late, Carl. I need you up early tomorrow to take care of Judith.”

“Okay.” He says, his eyes going between the two men, back and forth. He comes closer and gives him a hug. “Goodnight Dad.”

Then there’s a tense moment during which he looks sideways and wordlessly walks by Shane. Rick breaks it, undertone of amusement in his voice, “You could wish Shane goodnight, where are your manners?”

It’s obvious both of them are surprised and understand the importance behind his light teasing: they look up to him in unison, and suddenly Carl turns to Shane and says an enthusiastic, energetic “Goodnight!”.

Shane answers happily with a strained, “Goodnight, buddy.”, carefully controlled, checking with a glance to Rick that it’s okay, and his boy is off hopping with excitement. 

Rick smiles.

  


 

 

The morning comes quickly, and with it, Rick’s wish to keep the good atmosphere going. He has to wake up Carl who’s drowsy with sleepiness and instead Rick entrusts Judith to Beth. He packs their things - weapons, food for the day, fuel - and joins Glenn and Maggie who are already waiting for him in the middle of the prison hall.

“Ready ?” She asks gently.

“We’ll drop Daryl on the road,” Glenn informs him, “he thinks he’ll find more game somewhere he hasn't gone hunting already.”

Rick nods, letting the both of them go outside, and turns around when he hears Shane walking to the cafeteria, his face as gloomy as Carl’s. _Late-risers_ , he huffs.

“Shane,” he calls out, “you ready ? You’re coming with us.”

His eyebrows raise up in surprise, but he doesn't voice his awe and instead follows him outside. “Is that a promotion ?” He asks then, smirking.

“Yeah, you’re now head zombie-gait before Glenn.” Rick answers sarcastically before going to his side of the car, “Congratulations.”

Shane’s small laughter fills the air while Glenn and Maggie get out of the vehicle to sit on the back seats. They let the both of them sit front - Rick driving, he always was the one driving even back then when they were police officers. It hadn't even occurred to him yet they had reverted to an old routine.

“Can I throw a party for my promotion ?”

Rick hides his smile behind his hand, elbow on the window. The guy is insufferable, but Rick has to admit that Shane truly has balls. He doesn’t mind the tension in the car - he simply cuts it in half with this big mouth of his and makes room for himself. Daryl soon follows after them.

“We need fuel,” He states, “I can’t ride my bike anymore.”

“That’s the plan for today. We’ll split into two groups when we reach the town. I took some hoses to siphon some fuel off cars. Shane and I will do it.”

“Siphon fuel off cars. I see you’ve got no more respect for the law, officer.” Shane lets out dryly while looking distractedly outside.

Rick suppresses a smile - failing when Shane glances at him with light teasing dancing in his eyes - and starts the car up.

The ride goes smoothly. Conversation is sparse, the presence of Shane probably slowing it from Maggie and Glenn, but he makes a comment once in a while and doesn't appear bothered at all by the situation. If anything, he seems quite content. They drop Daryl and stop later on the outskirts of the town, splitting into two groups. 

Rick can’t help but remember the last time they went on a mission like this, the way they had tried to kill each other with bare hands and a monkey wrench surrounded by walkers, nor the last time they had been alone, tension building up under the threatening moonlight, Rick begging Shane to back down and wanting all of this to be over - a loud shot, the knife, his blood everywhere and his open brown eyes looking into the void. Rick had seen two full moons in them.

“Hey Rick!” Shane suddenly whispers, nudging his arm to get his attention. “Watch that!”

He turns around where the man is looking, and spots a hen not far away next to a car. “What do you say?” Shane asks him with a smile. “Do you think I can catch it?”

Rick looks around, making sure there’s no walker nor people nearby. “If you can’t, you’re the shame of the high-school football team. Pretty sure you had to do exactly that during your integration week." He kind of feels self-conscious speaking freely about the past, but it seems to do the job: Shane snorts arrogantly and gets up.

“We’ll see.” He says as he walks to the animal, hips unintentionally swaying with confidence above strong, powerful thighs.

He gets closer and closer to the hen, swift and silent. Rick thinks for a second that he’s going to catch it this easily, but suddenly there loud cackles ring in the street and Shane curses, “Motherfucker!” while jumping and running after it, half bent to grab it. The whole thing is disturbingly loud, stopping Rick from anything more than a distracted huff, but when the hen escapes and forces a groan out of Shane, Rick's eyes sparkle with contained amusement.

“Rick!” Shane freezes and calls quietly, beckoning him closer, “Check this out!”

He does, coming to the man in a few strides, and before him are two hens and a rooster trapped in a dead-end. This is really good.

“After you.” Shane offers with an insolent smile, and Rick even goes as far as turning his back to him after having handed him his rifle to move more freely.

“You stop them from running away.” Rick instructs him.

Soon, everything is a mess. Rick runs and bends and tackles the fowl in vain, frightened cackles not covering Shane’s hysterical laughter. The man is holding himself, supporting his body on the rifle, utterly useless. A long, rotten groan suddenly cuts him off, and he turns around just in time to get his knife and stab the walker in the skull, killing it instantly.

“Oh, no.” Shane has the verve to tell the walker, “You’re _not_ ruining my moment.”

It falls on the ground. After a quick check, Shane indicates there’s no more of them.

“Help me catch them, you useless asshole.” Rick orders, and the man comes nearer with a grin, swaying his body cockily.

 

 

 

According to Shane, Maggie and Glenn’s flabbergasted faces when they had spotted the hens and the rooster inside the car, had been _priceless_. Now, they were driving back to the prison, the Asian boy and the farmer girl mostly trying to stop the howl from flying to the windshield.

“Did you break their legs ?” Maggie asked at one point.

“Yeah, I did.” Shane answered. “They wouldn’t stop running. Though the first one was Rick’s fault. He stumbled upon it.”

He saw the girl’s mouth twist in disapproval inside the rear-view mirror and smiled. Nobody spoke for a while, and Shane found himself thinking about the wonderful day he'd just had, laughing with his best friend and not utterly worrying about survival. He could get used to that.

That was always risky doing so.

“What are you thinking about ?” He heard Rick ask casually a few minutes later.

“Our last car ride.” He answered honestly. This should’ve been a tricky topic, but Rick seemed to expect it. “I was thinking about how different it was today. I’m so glad, man. I won’t mess this up.”

Jeez, they seemed so tense suddenly on the back seat. Moving speech, right? Maybe they weren't used to it anymore, coming from him. But Shane was really touched to see Rick loosen up a bit.

“You bet you won’t mess this up.” Rick eased with a smile. “Last time we fought you died and the one before your face ended up looking like a steak.”

Shane laughed, partly covering his mouth with his right hand that had been holding the assist grip. “Man, you’re right. Fair one. The left side of my face was so disfigured I looked like Two-Face.”

“Who?” Rick asked distractedly, briefly frowning.

“It’s the villain from Batman,” Glenn supplied, “he was played by Eckhart in _Begins_.”

“Eckhart?” Maggie asked.

“Yeah, he played in _Thank you for smoking._ ” Shane said. “Wouldn’t remember his first name if my life depended on it though.”

“Isn’t it something like _Aaron?”_

“Nah.”

“I think it is.”

The Asian boy sounded so smug he made Shane smiled once again to himself. Arrogant asshole. 

“Google it.” He retorted. On his left, Rick looked quite pleased with the situation. If only things could go on being this way.

  


 

 

When he first thought of keeping the hens and the rooster alive, Rick didn't realize it would cause so much enthusiasm. Carl hurried to ask Tyreese to make a pen for them, and Beth went on about eggs and chicks, before Carol spoke at length about eggs and protein. 

Everybody agreed to say their catch was great, especially Hershel, who seemed to be pleased with their growing autonomy regarding food. Glenn found a way to make Shane the hero of this epic adventure, almost embarrassing the man who didn't know what to make of the unwanted attention. He joked his way out of it. This had been a good evening.

Shane is in the cloakroom. Rick knows it since he just comes back from a shower himself, his longer curly hair wet and dripping on his fresh and his somewhat clean clothes. He doesn’t stop when he spots Shane's back, still clad but clearly unbuttoning his shirt. Before the man can do so much as turn around, Rick puts his hand on his shoulder and urges him down. There’s surprised resistance under his taut muscles at first, and then he easily goes down when he realizes who’s touching him.

“Did I do something wrong ?” He asks without turning back, and he genuinely seems to want to know the answer.

His hands gone limp at his sides the instant he touched him, Shane is keeping his gaze straight to the door. Good.

“No,” Rick answers, “I just want you not to forget.”

“I won’t. Today doesn’t change anything.”

His hand starts to brush the man’s skin where the shirt has fallen - hard trapezius muscle meeting him -, slowly, unforgettable and strong. Shane’s body has built up in these last years, since the world ended. Rick already thought about Lori, about the way she must have felt secure in Shane's arms when he was gone.

“I need you to remember your place.” He insisted.

“I do.” His voice, bold, convinced, doesn't so much as shake.

A few cold droplets fall on Shane's exposed skin - a muscle contracts nervously, the skin around erupting in hundreds of goosebumps. Rick softly wrings bare his neck and is satisfied when he meets no resistance except a suppressed wince in the end, once Shane’s neck is stretched completely.

“Show me.” He whispers in an intent order.

“Your lead.” Shane recites, closing his eyes shut when Rick raises his hand a bit more across his hot skin. He's shivering. “I follow. They’re your children.”

"You make it seem so easy." He reflects, amazed at how Shane goes along with the submission. It’s almost suspicious. " _Why_ didn't you do it sooner ?" Everything would've been so bloody simple, so different.

"I told you. I didn't want to back then. Now I'd do anything, I don't care. You can bend me how you want, I trust you, Rick."

He does. Bend. That's the stranger thing of all. Rick sees the way Shane closes his eyes and doesn't show any discomfort once his hand touches him. The second before - that's expectation. The next, he goes along with the move, easy and relieved, something on his face Rick can't quite place. It's oddly fascinating, it feeds Rick's longing for this moment, the way he can make Shane nice and easy. The thought is hot and laced with tearing violence, guilt even. He didn’t have any reason to do this except that he could.

Shane’s shoulder is wet now, ruined with droplets from Rick's hair. Rick would’ve liked to stay and ruin it more. _I can ruin you, just as you did me. How far can your stubborn self go to prove a point?_

As he thought Shane would though, when Rick does release his grip on his neck, the man doesn't move and simply breathe in and out for a while, clenching his teeth. For a second his body looks like he could use another shove and be thankful for it, a pure mass of muscled energy, but Rick waits and Shane eventually opens his eyes again, hard and silent glare on the closed door before them.

 

 

  


  


It’s another few weeks before the prison is under attack, the Governor leading the pack and detaining three of their own.

  
  
  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Badum-tss ! As you can guess, the next chapter is going to involve some action ! 
> 
> A warm thank you for the few - yet dear to my heart - people who left a review to tell me how they feel about the story, and another thank you for those of you leaving kudos ! I hope the other have a good time reading ! I can already tell you that we'll go beyond the ten chapters with this one :)
> 
> Other than that: Has any of you ever been to a Walking Dead convention? One of them is held in December in France, and both Shane and Daryl - I mean, John Bernthal (<3<3) and Norman Reedus, are going to attend it! (Lori too) Should I stay or should I go now~?


	5. Too Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a way or another, it ends here - with the Governor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe a week ago I was wondering if I should go to that convention. All I think about now is going, I'm running out of control ! XD I'm just a massive fan of Shane. I'll just buy the full Jon Bernthal experience : signing, photo op(s?), meeting room, cocktail party. When you know what a sugar he is in real life, it doesn't even feel near enough. But I can't just scratch at the door of his hostel room and beg for another hug now, can I ?! XD

 

 

**_Five minutes after it’s too late_ **

****

Fire. Screams. Shootings. Run.

Run.

Blood. Walkers. Gun. Away. Smoke. Run. Carl. Explosion.

Carl. Judith ? Run.

Flesh. Death. Gore. Fire. Shootings.

Everything is violence, everything is survival. They’re beast, once again. No time to mourn. Rick never had time to mourn.

 

**_Five days before it’s too late_ **

 

Shane had known he would grow attached to the baby; he knew that you were meant to feel special when it came to your child, and damn, they were right, all of them sentimental idiots: he might not be Judith’s real father - even though he knew, he _knew_ he was, if you do the maths it was obvious - but he felt _that_ feeling nonetheless. Maybe because there was that doubt inside him. Maybe because she was so tiny and needed his protection, maybe because she was the only thing left of Lori. But when Rick let him hold her… Man, he was so grateful. He’s allowed more around their girl now - Yeah, he kind of started to think of Judith as _their_ daughter at some point, no post-apocalyptic paternity testing would result in that. Of course she remained Rick’s. But mainly because he loved Rick. Had it been some guy he didn’t care for, he would’ve taken his girl and shot the man if he put up a fight, because Lori had known too, that Rick couldn’t possibly be the father.

“ _I don’t even know whose baby it is._ ” her tearful voice whispered again in the depths of his memory. He was starting to feel guilty with the whole thing happening in the first place.

He could speak with Carl now, too. Man, that was awesome.

 

 

**_Three days before it’s too late_ **

 

“We’re going in town. You coming?”

“Sure.”

Rick still didn’t trust him, but that was fine. For a man that suspicious, he was fucking lucky Rick was letting him get his place by his side back so quickly. And Rick _was_ suspicious. It’s not like Shane could voice a single damn opinion about it, but Rick sure had changed since the farm. No more dwelling, no more hemming and hawing - he _was_ a leader, and that made submitting to him more... legitimate. Swallowing one’s pride was painful. But with Rick… He was back thinking he could hand him his life without thinking. Trust, yeah. But he didn’t really care about life without them anyway, so maybe it was an easy trust on his part.

Rick still was the same though. Loyal, righteous, trusting with his own people. Hell, sometimes he felt like protecting _Rick_ from the entire world. Rick didn’t need to, never needed to, but the feeling was overpowering.

He wished he could be near him more often. Seeing him only on mornings and before sleeping didn’t seem enough, somehow.

 

**_One minute after it’s too late_ **

****

“Where is Shane ?” He shouts.

Everything is chaos. Death and life blending on a blazing battlefield. The dead and the living running, falling, burning. Screaming. Rick screams, to Glenn, “Take them! I need to get Shane back!”

“You can’t, Rick! We need to go _now!"_

They’ve done this dozens of time. Running away for their life, leaving the living behind and hoping they would make it. That doesn’t feel right, right now. This feels like betrayal. Nobody told him yet in the face.

It’s Maggie, tears running down her cheeks since her father has been beheaded, who grabs his arm and yells, “We need to go! Shane’s lost!”

Rick had known that.

 

**_Seven hours before it’s too late_ **

 

“Come on, Judith. Don't do that to me. You need to drink that.”

Rick is laying against the door frame, listening to Shane's discreet but definitely desperate pleas. It’s hard not to chuckle. He forces himself not to. Rick wants to know how Shane acts with his daughter when nobody is around. The man has not seen him yet from where he’s standing.

Judith stirs and fusses.

“No, no, no, no, no. You’re not crying on me. You better drink that. Yeah, that’s my girl.” Judith is calm again, eagerly drinking from her bottle now. But the pet name wakes up something ugly inside Rick’s stomach. The next sentence puts it to sleep immediately. “Your dad would’ve killed me if her baby girl had been hungry while it’s the first time I'm taking care of you. Where is he any- Oh.” When he spots him, Shane takes his daughter’s tiny hand and waves it at Rick with a grin, _“Hey_ back, motherfucker.”

“Don’t learn swearwords to my daughter.” Rick says while taking her back, but he already failed at _not_ smiling.

 

**_Thirty seconds before it’s too late_ **

 

Rifles snatched away, his knees in the dirt. Hershel’s head next to him, forever frozen in a shocked expression. He should’ve killed that Governor asshole when he had the chance, a few months ago. Shane’s body was racing with adrenaline, almost desperate for a fight, an outbreak of tension with his fists punching, anything. But his mind was at ease, even if he was quickly analyzing the situation, gazing at Rick, who looked afflicted and raging mad, eyes darting everywhere and still negotiating. Man, that was a good leader. There was nothing else they could do but negotiate their way out of it. For the last time, Shane bared his neck naked for him. He feels Rick's eyes on him, and sharing that understanding with him is everything he needs before dying.

 

**_Ten minutes before it’s too late_ **

 

Rick puts his shovel down for a second when he sees Carol coming with a satisfied smile on her lips. She looks around, up, and decides, “That’s a really good job.”

They had finished the greenhouse two days ago, and now is the time to turn over the soil and plant their seeds. Usually Hershel advises him on the most efficient way to do it, but today he’s out with Michonne.

“Yeah, we can thank Shane for that.”

“You don’t need to do that with me, you know.” She teases with a smile. Rick frowns to feign ignorance, and she clarifies, “Glorifying him so that I start to appreciate him. I know his worth.”

Rick decides to ignore the fact that she saw right through his attempts at cooling things down between the man and the rest of the group, and turns to the henhouse outside.

“How is it going ?” He inquires.

“Fine, I guess. Beth mainly takes care of them, but she says they will soon be healed. Then we’ll have more eggs. Maybe chicks. A whole family-run farm company.” 

“The last farm we had was destroyed,“ Rick reminds her while picking up his shovel, “we can’t make the same mistake and think this will last forever.”

“We won’t.”

Loving and growing attached to things is a costly mistake, Rick realizes. He cannot do otherwise but love Carl and Judith, but if he keeps on loving... It hurts every time.

When she doesn’t add anything else, Rick starts working again. After a while, he hears Carol join him. Only a handful of seconds elapses like this before it happens.

First he hears engines, roaring, loud and angry, and just as he’s standing up straight there’s a screeching, agonizing sound grating loudly in their ears. When he turns back to look outside, Rick sees them. His heart pounds. The gates are down.

A tank, they have a tank.

When he spots the small, slender body of his boy running away from the wire fence, Rick can’t do anything else than scream and race forward.

“Carl!”

Rick jumps and runs, runs outside, gun out and held in one of his hands propelling his body faster. He can hear the others behind him, shouting orders and pleas and arming themselves while sprinting on the gravel path, and Shane already far ahead, Glock 17 pointed to a car getting near Carl.

The man fires, once, twice, while his boy runs to them but it’s too late, it’s pointless, he’s so far away - The men grab Carl by the arm and yank him their way and both Rick and Shane howl in fury.

“Carl!” Everything else is muted.

But eventually Rick can hear his surroundings again, his own heavy breathing, the blood pounding in his ears and Shane’s last shot, but after this one it’s simply too dangerous: their revolvers are trained on his son whom they throw before the Governor's feet, his army standing on tanks and cars beside him. They have a man kneeled before them too, a katana across his throat.

“Dad!” Maggie’s suffering shout reeks of fear and pain, and it only adds itself to Rick’s own.

He sees the Governor screaming something to Shane, and whatever it is, it stops him in his tracks, his body tense and angry. Rick is the next to reach him. The others follow. Everyone stay behind them as Shane and Rick fix their furious glare on the Governor, bestial wrath gritting their teeth. Michonne is laying unconscious or dead on the ground.

“You don’t have to do that!” Rick tries, “You can back up now and we forget about it, nobody is too far gone! We can co-exist in peace, together.” But it doesn’t matter how long he tries to reason with the man - pointless. Pointless, desperate attempts while watching his frightened child and the brave farmer.

All that matters is the whispered answer, and the katana sliding through Hershel’s throat. “Liar.”

Maggie’s piercing cry is louder and longer than everybody’s scream, and some of them surge forward with weapons but Shane barks, “Stand back!” and Rick is lost with unthinkable fear. He knows the man will kill Carl if he can’t think about something.

“What do you want?” He shouts with a his voice strangely high-pitched and low at the same time.

The Governor doesn’t smile. Too far gone. He’s insane. Carl knows it. He’s pale and fighting, his poor boy, his young boy. God, Lori, I'm _so_ sorry. I'm not going to make it. Everytime someone moves, a gun moves closer to Carl's head, and behind them Glenn has to hold Maggie back to the ground while Hershel’s decapitated head is bleeding out at Carl’s feet.

Next to him, Shane suddenly rises his hands next to his own head.

“Whatever it is that you want, take me in place of the boy.”

Rick’s eyes snap to him. He’s serious, of course he is. He grabs his arm and stresses,  “It’s _my_ role to do that.”

Shane simply shoves his hand away and dives his grave brown eyes into his. “But you can’t, you idiot. You've got to live to take care of them both.”

Shane doesn’t wait before breaking eye contact and moving forward. Closer to the guns suddenly pointed in his direction. He doesn’t even flinch.

“And why would I do that?” The Governor asks with a derisive laugh. “I have Rick Grimes’ son. I can’t possibly think of a better hostage to bargain with.”

“I’m no better, but I’m as good. You can’t kill the boy: think about Penny." The light flickers on the Governor's face. "I don’t think she'd approve of his dad doing this. But killing me won’t bother much your conscience. I’m the best friend.”

“It’s not a wedding ceremony, Shane Walsh. Best friends don’t mean anything anymore, now.”

Shane shrugs. “Well, how about the fuck friend? That means something. And I have two loaded rifles on my back. That makes three guns and a fag for you. For the boy.”

The Governor keeps silent for a few seconds, obviously considering the offer. A man next to him makes a loud remark about the rifles and their being under-armed compared to Rick’s group.

“Fine. Let the boy go.”

Rick’s legs almost go weak with relief when he sees Carl running free to them. He touches his thick, soft hair as soon as he stops at his side, and then he urges him back, never looking away from the Governor. “Don’t leave Judith’s side and get ready to run.”

“Shane.” Carl simply says, and Rick answers, “I’ll try.”

The Governor’s men have taken the rifles from Shane’s back and are now looking for weapons on his body. He hands them the Glock, but quickly grows uneasy. Before they can search him more, Rick shouts, “Enough dead for today, Governor! Give Shane back and we’ll discuss.”

“No.” He grabs Shane by the back of his shirt and orders him something. His friend falls on his knees, hands behind his head, jaw clenched and looking straight at Rick. The similarity is painful. “I think I’ll execute him.”

The anger surging is a wild leashed beast inside his chest. “If you do this,” he manages to yell despite his crippling rage, “you’ll be responsible for the war that follows! You’ll lose men too!”

It’s already hard to keep the whole group in check now that Carl is safe.

“If you don’t want this to happen, hand me your group. They’re innocent people. They deserve to live in the community.”

Behind Rick, nobody moves. That grounds him. Makes him feel powerless regarding Shane. The hope that his partner has a back-up plan is tiny, but the best thing he can get. Shane is looking at him intently. On the right, a man fires six times to get four walkers down. But more are coming. He can hear dozens of lingering hungry groan already.

With a tiny smile, Shane cranes his neck away from the gun the Governor is holding, exposing his throat. All Rick wants to do is to shoot them all and rescue his best friend. He keeps still.

“No one?" The Governor asks. "Then…”

No. No, he won’t. Shane’s eyes flash to his at the same moment that Rick raises his Colt Python. Suddenly, Shane is reaching inside his jeans pocket. Firing sounds. The men are already firing at the group. When Rick is able to see what Shane was looking for, he turns back and yells, “ _Down_ _!”_

Shane takes the pin out of the hand grenade and puts it at his feet before rolling back toward the tanks. Warning shouts, running, everything a fumble of armed running cowards and then.

Too late.

 

No time to mourn. Rick never had time to mourn.

 

 

 

 


	6. PART TWO : Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life goes on. It always does. It did the first time Shane _died_ , so why would it be any different now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The setting in Alexandria will allow for a _back to how things were before_ feeling, so it may definitely have repercussions on Rick and Shane's relationship. Longer chapters too, hehe.
> 
> Also, there will be no cocktail party at this Walking Dead convention, so, yeah, big disappointment. I mean, having Jon at my table joking around is what I wanted in life. But I bought a meeting room ticket, youhou! I like telling the news here, those chapter notes feel like my diary XD

 

 

**PART TWO : ALEXANDRIA**

 

 

 

Months go by. Hope comes, and goes with the Terminus, with the living corpse-eaters, with the walkers. Then at least they are together again. Rick finds Judith back, and oh _God_ , that feeling. Holding her against his chest is like choking on life. He wouldn’t live without them, he realizes. His responsibilities as a father were the only thing that kept him alive when Lori passed away. The fresh need to run and hide and find food and protect everyone suddenly made her ghost disappear from reality. Rick doesn’t have time to mourn. Months go by.

And nobody speak the name of Shane Walsh to him ever again.

They find Alexandria like drowned men afraid to be hallucinating the light of the beacon dancing before their exhausted minds. But Alexandria _is_ the lighthouse Rick was expecting. He doesn’t expect it to be paradise: he only realizes people inside are unarmed and weak, and would be easily defeated if they ever need to overpower them. Here, they have good cover, supplies, weapons nearby, and they have the most importance resource : number. It doesn’t stop Rick from being on his guard, of course - the real war now takes place among the living.

Beth is dead. Noah too, along with Tyreese, Micah and Lizzie. Children die. The road had been long to come here. More trying than ever. Right before they'd arrived, Rick had been sure he had lost Carl. His son looked at him like he would look at a stranger - wariness, subdued fear. Rick was sinking down to animality before Alexandria, he could feel it, feel the basic survival need sweeping the humanity within him.

In this, Alexandria is like a splash of water in the face. Civilisation was a foreign territory when they first arrived. How are you even supposed to _relax_ , get drunk, flirt and only worry about not missing the laundry day - because you have to save power and use the washing machine _only once a week_ \- when outside, dead creatures eat living monsters ? How he would’ve killed to see Shane’s reactions to this lifestyle. Lori would’ve adapted to Alexandria, of course she would have. Shane… Probably on the tower keeping watch, Rick decides. When he realizes who he’s thinking about, that usual hurtful blow inside his chest feels softer.

It’s been a while.

He stopped thinking about him so much when they all came together again at Terminus. He wasn’t there. _He didn’t make it, he exploded with his grenade after saving Carl._ His boy’s life seems even more precious when he thinks about it. Carl is the only one that tried to speak to him about Shane.

‘ _Shane taught me. Do you remember him ?_ " 

Everyday.

Carl stopped asking questions quickly though, and Rick felt strangely disappointed. But they all had seen it, the way Shane sacrificed his life for Carl’s. He doesn’t need to tell them and show how grateful he is he had such a friend. He ponders the word on his tongue for an instant. This is a word from Alexandria - weak. Inadequate. 

Shane wasn't a mere friend. Daryl is not a  _friend._ Neither is Carol. They're more. They're not Carl, they're not Judith, but they're family.

It’s almost funny how he’s able to grieve Shane now, without the tears he had all shed the first time he had thought him dead, but with a heavy heart stealing his breath away sometimes, while two winters ago, they were jumping at each other’s throat. Of course Rick still loved him fiercely back then, but now he doesn’t feel relieved at all to know that he won’t come back.

He just doesn’t believe it.

_Fool. People die now, that’s how it is._

“Hey Rick!” Glenn calls one morning, casually striding towards him, something in his right hand looking like a DVD. “Check out what I’ve found!”

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere outside running for supplies?” He asks, trying - but failing - to sound patronizing. Instead he kind of smiles, in a strained way, and let his eyes fall on the thing.

“No, Sheriff, sir. We’ll be going this afternoon. I’m in order.”

“So what’s this thing you wanted me to see?”

He holds up his hand, and indeed, this is a DVD. Rick understands straight away the reference, but Glenn explains nonetheless, “This is _Batman_ _Begins_. His first name is Aaron! _Aaron Eckhart!_ I just knew it! I wish I could throw it into his smug face.”

Glenn smiles, in an amused, broad smile, and chuckles lamely when Rick doesn’t answer. An unexpected warmth spreads from his heart to his chest, and he ends up smiling tightly to the DVD. He could just picture that scene.

“I’m sorry.” Glenn’s voice makes him raise his eyes to him. “I’m so heartless, I shouldn't have told you about any of this.”

The half-smile comes easier, “I’m glad you did. Yeah, God knows even where he is he needs to be proved wrong.”

Glenn's chuckle is even more strained now. He hadn't meant it to be awkward.

“Well, you’re right." The young man answers. "But we were, too. Wrong, I mean. I mean, of course you shooting him down at the farm was justified, but when you brought him back into the group, I’ve got to admit that no one felt really safe. But since… it happened, well, you know. I feel so stupid. I tried, though. Some of us regret not trying to get along with him when he came back. He was worth it.”

The silence that followed made Glenn fidget a little. “But you already knew all that, don’t you?” He asked sheepishly.

“I did.” Ricks answers. Maybe that was because of the emotional atmosphere created by Glenn’s speech, but he went on, “Though it feels good to know for sure you’re not all glad he’s dead.” This simple admission makes him feel weird.

“Nobody is.” He assures, before blinking. He seems to realize something, “Oh ! Michonne needs to ask you something. She’s near the main house.”

“Alright, I’m going. Good luck this afternoon.”

“Thanks Rick.” And he goes.

 

 

Time in Alexandria flies quickly, especially after Rick executes Pete Anderson. After that, things get back to normal for both sides: the people from Alexandria thank him because the community feels less tense, and _his_ people are less jumpy now that Michonne and he carry guns around the Safe-Zone. Then Rick gets that a gun be kept in every household and property, which takes time because Deanna points out that Rick’s people each have a house now, so they would own more guns than the original inhabitants of Alexandria. He retorts that they are a part of Alexandria too, or so she wished, and that Rick wouldn’t endanger his people by attacking them first whereas they have everything they could wish for here. After this final argument, everything gets back in order, that is: Rick is in command in everything but title. Deanna meets him regularly to discuss every decision she’s about to take, and he never needs once to put down his veto.

“I was thinking about letting Daryl and Aaron go back scouting for the community.” She begins after she starts the recording device. Maggie regularly watched those when she couldn’t attend their meetings, and Rick felt better knowing their position of power wouldn’t allow them to turn their back on the community. That’s how things should be. “We would need more men to extend the walls of the community, and while Morgan has some precious experience in building, maybe we would be lucky enough to find another architect.”

“And what if they only find women and children?”

“Then we would accept them, of course.” She answers easily. “I even think you should handle newcomers: ask them your questions and decide whether they should be brought to me or not. Though I would be very grateful if you let me know before turning them down.”

Rick thinks this is a very good idea, and he doesn’t miss the power she just transferred o him. He nods.

“Perfect, that’s settled. I’ll tell Eric to warn Daryl and Aaron - poor man can’t wait to go out and be useful. Next time people walk through the Main Gate, you’re in charge.”

“Fine,” he agrees while standing when she does. Then he extends his hand, “thank you for trusting me.”

She shakes it firmly and smiles. “I don’t have a reason not to. You’re becoming a pillar of this community. All I want is for everyone to feel safe and happy. You fill the job, Sheriff.”

He lets out an amused breathing. Atlanta would never quite leave him, it would seem.

 

 

Daryl and Aaron do go outside the following day, Daryl waiting silently next to his bike while Eric makes his boyfriend swear to be careful. Rick and the hunter watch them distractedly from afar, and he’s glad Daryl isn't one of those men he would feel the manly need to scoff at the couple with to relieve the embarrassment. They’re both quite okay just waiting.

At one point though, Daryl says, “I swear I won’t stand by and watch them do their heavy petting and cuddles all day long when Eric’s gonna join. _Cut_ _it_ _out_ _!”_ He shouts then, “ _I’ll bring him back in one piece, we'll only be gone for a couple of days!_ ”

Immediately they hear a _“Sorry!_ ” and Aaron hurries towards them, leaving an embarrassed Eric behind.

“That was rude,” Rick points out with a snort “they’re always so discreet. I’ve never seen them -”

“Of course you would say that, _Mister_ _Etiquette_. Both Lori and you had sticks up your asses. Didn’t make it nice to listen to you two airing your dirty laundry in public.”

Rick glares at him, but he’s already readying himself. Soon they go.

They come back eight days later with only one man.

And, even though there isn't really a precise way to keep track of time anymore, Rick can say this time it’s twelve weeks after they arrived at Alexandria that Shane Walsh makes his second comeback into their lives. In fact, his first reaction when he spots him near the Main Gate, surrounded by Daryl and Aaron and disturbingly _alive_ is not to guess how much time has passed by looking at the sky or by feeling the light summer breeze on his face, nor to draw out his Colt Python to aim it at his head, for that matter, but rather to speed up and crush him into a tight embrace, as he had done so long ago.

“I thought you were dead, you -” But his voice breaks with painful sobs and he doesn’t finish his sentence.

He swears the man’s gonna break his damn heart.

 

 

 

 


	7. Coming Back Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Shane actually fit in a community where Rick isn't the sole leader?  
> Will Alexandria change some things? Allow other to remain the same?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon Bernthal and Andrew Lincoln answered the question "How would things be different if Shane was still alive?"  
> Watch it (again) with this [ Vine](https://vine.co/v/eEqKTOgdnlO) <3  
> Yeaah we know things would've been different ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 

 

 

Thirty seconds after they had ambushed him in the forest, the guy whose name was apparently Aaron had asked something like, “So you two know each other  Do you know Rick Grimes?” and immediately Shane’s eyes had left Daryl to look at him.

“Rick? Is he okay? The kids. Carl. Judith. Did they make it ?"

 Daryl had lowered the crossbow he had first aimed at him when he hadn’t recognized him, and then had turned his heels to the car. “Everybody’s okay. Now jump in if you wanna come.”

Much later, they had arrived before a high, strong-looking gate.

“That’s the main gate,” the Aaron guy had helpfully supplied - but man he wasn’t going to bite on the hand feeding him - “if you look left, you’ll see Sasha up, keeping watch for strangers and walkers. You do know her, don’t you ?”

Sasha had opened the gate, and once parked, they had gotten off the vehicle, the sound of their boots meeting gravel ringing out in unison. “Rick’s supposed to come to take a look at the newcomers, so he won’t be long.”

Shane’s stomach had suddenly felt heavy with apprehension. It had been months. He wasn’t very good at waiting purposelessly. When they had been cops, he could only restfully wait with Rick as partner, or else he had to speak non-stop to relieve the tension. Rick would soon be here. He was alive. Shane had made it.

And man, this had been a tough saga.

When he'd realized he had escaped the wave of the hand grenade’s explosion back at the prison, his first and only thought had been to turn around and find the group back. But everything had been chaos, like the night Rick had stabbed him and he had woken up in the middle of the night surrounded by walkers and fire.

By the time he had been able to go back to the prison, everybody had left. Shane had cursed and kicked and punched the walls, punched the trees days later, swore again and cried and brutally ripped apart walkers. How was he supposed to know which way they had gone ? Tracks were going in every direction, and then disappeared, leaving him empty, hands shaking on his hips. He had felt so desperate. _At least, at least maybe I was able to save Carl,_ he often thought to remain sane. And then. He had spotted the blood.

“Glenn, go to Terminus. Maggie”, said the sign.

He had instantly started to run, run until he was out of breath and energy - and this had happened way too soon because of his thirst. If either of them went there, it was likely that Rick would too. Shane had gone to the Terminus.

When he had seen the sign crossed with a bloody “No”, and the place devastated, Shane had fell on his knees, hands resting on his thighs, and had struggled not to give in to anger. He had missed them. Not by a long shot, besides. And they had left no clue as to where they were going. Not a fucking one. Where, _where_ would've gone Rick? He had wandered aimlessly, struggling not to go back to his last checkpoint every few days.

By the time Daryl and Aaron had found him, he had been right in the middle of bum fuck nowhere. Well, everything of Virginia now seemed like a god-forsaken place anyway.

“It’s him. He’s coming.” The Captain Obvious of this place said when a figure appeared fifty feet from them, but damn, Shane felt so stressed he didn’t mind a fair warning.

And it really was Rick. Old Rick, his Rick. Shaved, clean, stunningly young-looking, some cap on the head and a hand on his holster, like a vision from the past, an anachronistic miracle. Rick from Atlanta, the one he’d spent years with, listening to his uneventful love life, the one he had spent every fucking day with at school and then at the police station.

The shock was a punch to the stomach.

And Rick finally turned his head to them, and looked at him, and froze. Shane couldn’t help but take a step forward, and another, and another when Rick’s face did something he couldn’t see from the distance, and his friend then walked to him, scampered along, and ran.

Rick met Shane at full speed and crushed him into his arms. His own throat was stinging. Fuck. _Fuck_. Shane eagerly returned the embrace and put a hand in his short curly hair, holding his forehead against his. Rick was crying, his blue eyes red-rimmed and so lost Shane felt like saving the entire world just to change that.

“I thought you were _dead_ , you -”

His voice broke, and he closed his eyes, sobbing painfully and putting his arms around Shane’s neck to rest his face on them, away from him. The sobs even shook his chest. Fuck, _fuck_ , _Rick_.

Hurriedly, Shane planted a kiss on his hair, on the salty temple he revealed when Shane took Rick's face in his two hands, and then firmly on his mouth. Tears crashed on his cheeks when he did so, and the second after they were once again forehead to forehead, and Shane’s chest didn’t shake but it sure was about to implode with all the relief he was feeling right now.

“I’m not. I made it. I’ve missed you so much - all of you.”

“How did you-”

“They found me.” He explained, “I’ve been to Terminus, but you had already left. I swear I thought I'd never find y'all again this time.” He didn’t add anything else for a few seconds, and they were left to ponder the possibility, eyes to eyes, their breath mixing, hot and mad, eyes looking on the other’s face and breath sliding across the other’s skin when Rick grabbed his head with both hands as well. Shane felt frantic and wild, like he was going to explode but was stilled by an unbridled calmness cooling his rush. Rick’s surprised tears had stopped. Instead, his eyes were fire.

“God, I knew I had missed you but honestly that’s insane.” Shane repeated while breathing out an amazed laughter, close, so close to him he felt safe and good - maybe like babies did when they’re held by their mother, or twins, finally embracing each other in a single bed at the end of the day.

Rick smiled too, in his restrained, amused way, and when he spoke again it was with his voice back in check, even and even warning, “If you ever do that to me one more time I’m _killing_ you. I’m only half kidding.”

“Deal.” Shane answered easily, before reminding him, “Your lead.”

They looked at each other then, grave, as they should be. They broke apart when Daryl walked past them and pushed _Aaron_ forward while grunting, “Move on if you don’t want me to tell Eric.” and Shane was left to wonder what he meant while Rick was taking a step back and moving his head to instruct Shane to follow them. He had more important questions.

“What’s this place ?”

“It’s safe. For now. I’ll explain when we have more time, but you can trust everything they say. You’re going to be interviewed to know if you can stay with us.”

“Not your call, then?”

“Not entirely, no. I need you here, so don’t tell them about what happened at the farm. I don’t want to take risks.”

“So, it’s not really _that_ safe here, if you’re not in charge.” he underlined pointedly.

“It is. _You’re_ the one who's not safe.” Rick retorted with a smile.

“Aww, you’d meet such perils for me? I’m flattered.”

“You should. And I didn’t even miss you.”

At that, Shane let out a big laugh. Then, he feigned a sudden burst of cough to cover the insult, “ _Crybaby_ ”. Rick only gave him a condescending glare. Yet, he was amused, and Shane felt so happy just to be able to joke with him.

He didn’t even have the time to ask the thing that was really itching at the front of his mind that they stopped before a house and Rick called from outside, “Carl! Come here for a second!”

And Shane’s heart was racing again. He didn’t have to wait for long: a long, slender boy came through the door, Rick’s hat on the head, and while he asked what his father wanted, Shane thought, _n_ _o way, this isn’t my little buddy._

But it was, and Carl’s face froze just like his father’s had, before it broke into a huge grin. “ _Shane_ !”

...And if it wasn't the most happy face he’d ever seen turned to him these last years, Shane didn’t know anything anymore. Suddenly the boy was jumping down the white front steps and into his arms. A strong emotion rushed to him along with the boy. Shane had goosebumps up his body. He was so, so terribly glad Carl was alive. Damn. He could feel the tears running up his throat. Of course he had known the boy was fine since Daryl had told him everyone was okay, but this was not the same, and he hadn’t dared ask Rick - Rick. _They’re your children_. Shane looked up and was relieved to see his best friend’s lips turned into a smile.

“You saved him,” he reminded him, “I think you earned that much.”

By reflex, Shane had put a knee down to meet Carl, but the boy was clearly too tall for that now. That’s why he was even looking up when Rick’s son moved back the head he had laid against his shoulder to say, “Thank you Shane. Dad’s right. You saved my life back then.” He added with a tip of his hat and a smirk, “I’m in your debt.”

“Well, right. Stop growing so fast and that’ll do. You make me look so old.” He stood while dusting his dirty clothes, but as soon as he finished, he just - stopped. Mind, breath, body. Carol was on the door steps, his daughter in her arms.

“I went out to know what that scream of yours was about, Carl, and I see for sure that some men are too stubborn to die. Welcome back, Shane.”

He realized Carol was speaking to him, and he blinked to chase away the tears that had gone up from his throat to his eyes and sinus. His mouth was slightly parted, but no sound came out.

“Carol, can you give Judith over to Shane?”

Everyone looked at Rick for a second, especially Carol, though she didn’t comment and went down the steps until she was facing him, his awake baby girl in her arms. Judith looked at him with big blue eyes and - before he knew it a sob broke past his lips and he was gently pressing her tiny body to his chest, turning and walking away from everyone to uselessly hide the emotion that was keeping him from seeing the grass he was looking at. Then he inhaled her scent. It was so soft, so damn comforting. She was alive. Oh for fuck’s sake, he was crying in front of Rick.

“I’m sorry RIck.” He fucking wept in a broken voice, because Carol either didn’t understand anything or she understood too much.

The last thing he wanted was to upset him and prove him that he didn’t respect his authority, but man he couldn’t, _couldn’t stop crying_. A firm hand landed on his shoulder, and for one second he thought he really had overstepped his mark.

“Take your time. Though we’d better go and see Deanna now. I should have brought you before her before doing anything else.”

Shane cleared his throat and nodded. “Alright.” One last look at his daughter: Rick’s big blue eyes, the confused face, wet pink mouth, and he handed her back to Carol. This was so hard to let go of her. Man, his head was throbbing.

He had to play by their rules, he _had_ to be accepted here. If he had to bend to a chick for that, hell, he was going to be known as Shane the bender by the end of the day.

 

 

“So, you are Shane.” Deanna says in lieu of beginning once the recording-device is on. Shane is sitting in the armchair facing the camera and the leader of Alexandria. Rick has been allowed to stay, along with Maggie, but despite Carl’s pleas, nobody else has been. “I’ve heard about you. Not so much, I’m afraid. Mostly from Carl.”

“Well, at least I know I've got a good reputation here if that came from the boy.”

“He said you sucked at poker and that you then retorted to cheating.”

“Jeez, I won’t be playin' with him anymore now.”

Rick suppresses a smile. Shane was the best poker player that he knew. He could be an even better father.

“What did you do before?”

“You mean as a job? I was a police officer along with Rick in Atlanta. Sheriff’s deputies. We worked together. We always have.”

“Then you’ve been acquainted with him for a long time, I gather?”

“Yeah that’s right. Since elementary school. We’ve been close ever since.”

“I see.” She says, and joins her hands before her mouth in order to think for a few seconds. Rick knows where she is going, and this is the part where they are skating on thin ice. Shane is smart, though. He proved in the past that he could be deceitful, and now would be the good time to use it to their advantage. “So you’re here because Rick is.”

“Yes.” He answers bluntly.

“And what if Rick does something you disagree with?”

“If that doesn’t challenge his authority, I’d try to talk him out of it.”

“What do you mean by _if that doesn't challenge his authority?”_

Shane huffed out lightly. “It means that I trust him to have the better judgement. I’d probably be wrong. I trust him.”

“Rick killed a man here in the community a few weeks ago. Any comment?”

“No. I’m sure the man deserved it. He wouldn’t kill without a good motive.”

“I hear the police officer speaking. Very well, you’re right. He had just accidentally killed my husband and he had been beating his wife for years.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Shane said with his usual cop voice, “but had it been me I would’ve slaughtered the asshole long ago. I think I gathered that’s not the style here though, so I would’ve first protected his wife and then thrown him out. Though that’s stupid: better kill than letting him back with backup for revenge.”

“He was a doctor.”

Shane seemed to pause for a second, his hand rubbing his chin, mouth partly open. “Then I would’ve imprisoned him not far away. You want this to be civilization, right? Civilization punish criminals. The wife needed to be away from him, but I would need a doctor for Rick’s kids if they get sick.” Rick could only approve his reasoning.

“So you’re protective over his children too ? You seem quite smitten with Mr. Grimes.”

When he hears the amusement behind Deanna’s voice, Rick chuckles slightly, but Shane replies with a cocky smile, “Of course I am. He’s my best mate. Even more so now that he shaved.” Shane leaned back against the armchair to be able to see him. His grin is insolent. “Back in the days when you were neat and you didn’t look like a gruff old bear.”

Rick smiles, aware now of the softness of his own skin and the air blowing on it. In comparison, Shane’s beard seems rough and his hair are back to his usual former style, spiking up everywhere. “Like you’re one to talk.”

“Aww, sorry man. I forgot to put my suit on today when I crossed the gate to meet you.”

Deanna does seem pleased to watch their positive energy, and the conversation goes on. The next thing that seems to unsettle Shane is trivial indeed, and it’s only because Rick knows him that he picks it. Deanna had been speaking about the life in the community for a while now.

“So, as for now, since we have space left, each of you have a house. You will have your own, with supplies, water, electricity, two bedrooms… and a gun which is to stay inside, order from Rick.”

Shane’s recoil is subtle. His brown eyes jump to his for a split second, but before he can form a coherent thought about his reaction, Shane answers, “Alright.” and both of them stand up.

“Perfect. So, as far as I’m concerned, I’d be happy to welcome you in Alexandria. What do you think of a welcoming party? Don’t say no, it’s too late, everybody is already working on it.” She jokes with a smile, and Shane returns it. He’s so natural about this Rick thinks he’s back in Atlanta, meeting civilians for investigations. “I’ll need to sleep on it, but I’m quite decided about what I want you to do here Shane. Oh, it’s obvious Rick, don’t look at me like that.” She teases when he frowns. “What do you think ?”

And then, it occurs to him. His face lights up in surprise. “Yeah, I agree. We have the same experience. But what of Michonne?”

“I’d need Michonne somewhere else soon. She needs responsibilities and control, but she’s good with children too, and I have something perfect for her. Let’s do this, then. From tomorrow on, you’ll be patrolling inside the community along with Rick. Is that fine with you ?”

Rick thinks it’s more than fine, but he refrains from influencing Shane until he agrees on his own.

 

 

Shane should've been thrilled to have a party thrown just for him. He _was_. Well okay, to be honest, he would’ve been if it was just their group. He didn’t mind the others. Most were just entirely too fucking naïve, and he didn’t even doubt Rick and the group had already opened their eyes full of shit. He just wanted to shake them all and send them on the gates to keep watch.

But at least they were nice, the bunch of them, and they were interested in him and in making him feel comfortable. Maggie pinched her lips to him in a supportive pout after he had been thrown into the sea of cheesy people for twenty minutes straight, and he caught Rick’s gaze on him. He was speaking with that girl, Jessie. Asshole Pete’s former wife. When Shane managed to escape, Rick came nearer and handed him a beer. He took it.

“You’ll get used to it. It takes time.”

“Used to being the center of attention of young virgin pussies? Ain’t gonna complain.” But he felt overwhelmed somehow.

Rick laughed a little, kind of shy - always uptight when it came to sex, and clarified, “I was speaking about going back to  _civilization_.” When Shane raised his brows derisively while drinking a sip of his beer, he went on, “It takes time. I couldn’t relax on the first night here. They expect you to act weird.”

“You call it weird, but you used to say _survival_.”

“I never said I believed in what’s going on here.” He countered in a low voice, half turning his body to make sure nobody was listening. “Just don’t let them see if you don’t melt in. And try to enjoy anyway. This _is_ what we were looking for. We gotta work to keep it.”

And then he added, 'By any means necessary.'

The night went on, and at this point he had met everyone and almost every member of their people had greeted him, save for Glenn, who hadn’t showed up yet. He did in the following two minutes: he walked in, as fresh and nice-looking as everybody else in the damn place, and he flashed a bright smile when he spotted Shane.

All of a sudden he was walking to him. The Asian boy then dramatically paused… and threw something in Shane's chest with a proud and patronizing stare, not flinching when the thing ridiculously fell down at Shane's feet.

“What was that for?” He asked with a raised brow.

“Your stubbornness.” Glenn retorted with such goddamn poise, Shane huffed out a quiet laugh, certain he had waited for this moment for a long time. He picked up the DVD and looked at it.

 _Batman_ _Begins_.

“That can’t be!” He shouted while turning over the cover to check the name. Aaron Eckhart. “Man, you were right. I can’t believe some Asian twat bested me. Good job.”

Behind them, Maggie was frowning. “I _can’t_ believe you would take the risk to break a good DVD to prove your point. It’s from Christopher Nolan, for God’s sake.”

Glen looked sheepish now, scratching the back of his head. “Oh don’t worry, I put it out the box, I just dreamed of throwing it in his face.”

 

Okay, this had been a good evening. Shane had even been tipsy at one point, though the feeling was gone now that he was going down the road of Rick’s house, who held Judith in his arms. Too tired and weak he supposed - he used to handle his booze like no one else in town. Anyway, he had been a bit tipsy when he'd spotted Aaron next to Eric, and he had only needed to ask Carol to see his suspicions confirmed. God, this was disgusting.

“Rick,” He asked, the sound of their steps and Carl’s breaking the silence of the dark and blue night, not a single walker tainting it for once, “Did you know Aaron and Eric were fags?”

Carl immediately turned his head up to him. Fuck, that was something Rick would hold against him.

“Yeah, I knew. Don’t use that word again in front of my son.” He ordered indeed.

“I’m not a baby, Dad. I know I mustn't use it.”

“It’s disrespectful.” Rick insisted.

“Yeah right, right, sorry. But I mean, _come_ _on_ , I know it’s the end of the world and everything, and chicks are harder to get, but that doesn’t mean suddenly we can go against nature and let two men cuddle like that in public. That’s…” He threw a glance in Carl’s direction “Gross.” He decided.

There was something in the restrained way Rick smirked at that moment while glancing at him that made him think back about something. Oh God no, no way. No fucking way. Could be that Rick wasn't thinking about that smack this afternoon, and he’d rather, because now Shane felt so mortified he had kissed Rick in front of a fucking faggot, who must have been gossiping about it all day long to his fucking girlfriend. He'd shudder if he even thought about what thoughts they entertained about them now. Jeez.

“You know, there were gay people before too.” Rick simply said, clearly unaware of Shane’s horror-stricken face.

“And both of them are super nice.” Carl commented pointedly while they stopped in front of the house. The comment earned a face from Shane.

“Yeah well, don’t stick to them too much buddy. Wouldn’t want you to-”

“Carl will do as he pleases.”

This was a slap. Damn, he had been carried away. Shane turned to Rick and straightaway apologized, “Yeah of course. Sorry Carl, I was just kidding. From what I’ve seen Eric seems nice, and Aaron's a good hunter.”

The boy nodded seriously, probably aware of what was going on. He cast a glance to his father, who demanded, “Go home with Judith, Carl. I’ll be right back.” When he only took a step back reluctantly, Rick assured, “Everything's fine.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Shane.”

“See ya.”

He waited a few seconds and reiterated, “Sorry about that Rick.” because, well, the last time he had acted like a parent to Carl the man had pointed a gun to his head. “It slipped off my tongue.”

“It’s okay. Just watch your mouth around him.”

“I will.” And then, because Rick was checking where Carl was in the house, he asked, “‘Wanted to speak about something else ?”

“Not here.”

Rick turned away and went for the right side of the Grimes’ house. Shane followed. He didn’t feel any apprehension : he usually felt so much better knowing things were going to be dealt with. They stopped in the shadow of the house, on the grass, between the white wall of the property and the equally white wooden gate separating him from the neighbors. Everything was neat and white there, it looked like fucking Wysteria Lane. The light from the stars didn’t make it to where they were standing face to face - pitch black, save for Rick’s face, whose eyes he could see glinting.

“I’m listening.” He said, standing upright and rolling a tense shoulder.

But Rick only took a step forward.

The question almost escaped his lips, but he hold it back when his body suddenly understood - even before his mind did. Rick was going to do it again, submit him. His heart raced. Adrenaline rushed under his skin through his entire body - he could feel it everywhere, running along his arms, stomach, and legs. He didn’t want to escape it. In fact, anticipation was leaving him wanting. A few seconds elapsed and Rick still didn’t move. The thought that he had been wrong occurred to him.

“Come on,” he urged in a husky voice, “come on, Rick, do it.”

Crickets were singing now, their chant making the night a bit less what Alexandria was, a bit more what they were used to. And to speak the truth, Shane craved for what he had been used to. He got what he wanted an indeterminate amount of time later, when Rick put his hand on his shoulder and clenched his fingers around his trapezius muscle to urge him down.

Shane went on his knees without a fight, eyes up to the tall figure of Rick’s body above him. He expected him to go on immediately - he was so used to feel the calloused hands going up his neck that he was expecting it, waiting for it, the whole situation letting him feel weird with unshaped desire and, had he been in a position to speak, Shane would’ve taken his shirt off to feel Rick’s hands on his skin instead of the fabric, like it had been most of the time. But Rick chose to speak first. Damn him and his principles, he cursed out of frustration, Shane _knew_ why Rick was doing it, no need to justify himself.

“You may think things have changed now that I’m not the sole leader of this place and that they want to put everybody on the same ground. But it has not. Our people still answer to me. The group comes first. And I won’t let you blow things up, do you hear me? You still are under my command.”

“Yes.” He immediately answered, and his voice was strangely blurred and low.

“Good.”

Rick moved his hand from his shirt to across his skin. His shadowed face was expressionless and dark in the night. Shane shivered when his skin prickled in the wake of Rick’s touch. This seemed somewhat different now. He had known they were going to do it from the moment he had seen him, and maybe this was just because of Alexandria. Because of their _civilization_. Shane stretched his neck to bare his nape and Rick’s rough hand secured its grip to pin him where he was. He didn’t let out the wince that twisted his mouth.

“Who do you answer to?”

Rick's voice too sounded affected. Stripped of anger. But Shane wouldn’t be the first to break and admit the awkwardness. In fact, he didn’t want any of this to end. Emptiness would be hard to deal with if he ever got a bit less close to Rick than he was.

“You.” He answered. “It’s your lead. I follow. They’re your children.”

His hand retreated to be replaced by the cold night, but Shane kept still and submissive, waiting for the signal that he could move. In the darkness, he was able to detect Rick’s half-smile. Waves of warm delight ran through Shane’s chest to his arms. Having Rick’s approval felt soothing.

Soon, he put his hand again on his neck and carefully stroke it twice back and forth with the back of his fingers - barely there. The shiver was so damn worse that Rick couldn’t have missed it. When he removed his hand though, Shane had the perfect pretext to get up and follow him back to the street like the ritual had not happened. But he felt better. Worn out, like in a good aftermath.

Shane stopped when Rick started climbing the door steps of his house, and he had been about to leave - even if frankly he was damn reluctant to let the kids so far from his sight - but then he remembered something he had meant to ask him once they’d be alone.

“Hey Rick. You know, about earlier this afternoon…”

His friend paused to turn to him.

“This afternoon ?” He asked.

“Yeah, when I kissed you. About that. The kiss, you _know_  I didn’t mean -”

Rick huffed in something that sounded like a chuckle.

“Of course I know.”

“It didn’t mean anything those two queers can picture, tell me you knew that, right?”

“Of course I got it.” Rick said with a smile, mocking and then gentle. “I’ve known you for thirty years. That’s fine. Now go home, tomorrow we get up at seven.”

Shane didn’t _want_ to go. He wanted to squat the house and stay awake next to Judith’s bedroom with a gun and a knife, like you’re supposed to in this insane world. He didn’t quite know how to ask without stepping on Rick’s territory though, so in the end he went for a, “Right. Good night.” but didn’t move until he heard the final answer.

“Good night.”

  


 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus, those straight men so scared to look gay. Social norms at their finest. Some say that homophobia is the fear men have to be treated like they treat women.  
> Sorry, but if you're not comfortable with homosexuality, you simply look suspicious ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	8. Things as They Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Shane asks for something he's been wanting since he arrived, people gossip and Daryl don't(?) give a damn about any of this shit, and Shane's fishing for Rick's compliments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been tweeting for less than a month now, and Jon finally followed me! Woooh! I can send him DMs now, but I've been a very good girl and I didn't harass him. Though maybe I could ask him what he thinks about this story ?! Lmao just kidding XD
> 
> Lots of love for people leaving kudos and comments, and I hope others enjoy the ride !

 

 

 

There’s someone in the house. Rick heard a noise the second before and now his eyes are wide open, looking without seeing at the ceiling colored in the pale cream of the moonlight. These are steps. Upstairs. Careful, almost - silent. The next sound comes from the cracking of the mattress when Rick gets up in a swift roll, and when he stands it’s with his Colt Python ready and loaded, leaning against the wall next to the door which is slightly ajar. He keeps his mouth shut not to make a single sound. 

It can’t be a walker: as always, Rick checked that every door and window were shut and locked before going to bed, and it would’ve made more noise if they had broken it.

He casts a glance in the hallway. No one. So Rick opens the door very slowly, careful not to make it wince, and slips barefoot into the hallway. He thinks for a second that it could be Carl, and to make sure Rick first looks left and spots the hat still on his son’s doorknob. That’s their signal : if Carl ever needs to go to the bathroom or the kitchen in the middle of the night, he’s got to take the hat with him.  
  
That means someone else is in their house.

His second instinct is to look right, straight to his other child’s bedroom. And his heart _bounces_. It’s open. 

The stranger is in his _daughter’s_ _bedroom_. 

All of a sudden Rick is racing, gun first, and when he arrives on the doorstep he almost shoots first out of fear that the person is about to hurt his baby girl, but then he sees him. The dark figure is tall, with broad shoulders and turns to him the second he hears him. It’s Shane. Shane broke into his house and is standing next to Judith to do God knows what. Fear explodes in Rick's veins and in its wake surge the unquestionable fury.

“Move aside right now!” He hisses, aiming for his head - but it feels so _wrong_.

Yet he can’t believe Shane could betray him again at this point, after all this - would take his girl - disappear - _never see her again_. Shane is frozen where he is.

“I said _move_ _aside_.” Rick is _that_ _close_ to shoot him in the knee.

“It’s not what you think, Rick. God, I never thought you'd wake up.”

It’s not the _goddamn_ _point_. Shane does step aside though, in the white light piercing through the window, and raises his empty hands. His facial features look hardened by the shadows splashed over some parts of his face.

“Unarmed.” Shane underlines, but it’s not enough, not enough, Rick always feared that he would take her away from him and disappear because he thinks she’s his, he never feared that he would harm her- 

Another bubble of panic leaks, pus spreading in his stomach, and Rick surges forward and shouts in a whisper, tilting both his head and the gun to the side, "And _what_ are you doing here, huh? In _my_ house, in the middle of the night, next to _my_ baby. Fuck, Shane,” he swears when he realizes what he has to do, “I’m going to _kill_ you. You don’t leave me a choice there. We could’ve -” He stops. 

Shane takes over, ignoring the gun between his two eyes to frown to insist, “I wasn't gonna hurt her, Rick. Fuck, I know this look awfully bad, but you can’t be thinking I would kill Lori’s baby.”

And the choice of words is crucial. “ _Lori_ _and_   _I._ ” He stresses, “She’s _our_ baby Shane.”

“Yeah.” And God, he hadn’t heard something so doubtful in a while.

Rick breathes in as calmly as he’s able to when he hears Judith stirring and fussing for a second, before she realizes she’s not alone, and he knows he will feel guilty when the shot startles her once he’ll pull the trigger.

“I can’t trust you.” Rick finally explains through his teeth, and damn, he’s still looking for a way to get out of this without doing it, without killing Shane. What’s wrong with him? Shane is a goddamn _threat_ to his family, he should’ve killed him long ago. _But_ _you_ _cried when you killed him that night._

“You can. I didn’t came here to hurt her or I don’t know - kidnap her or whatever the hell you’re thinking. I missed her, Rick. I couldn’t sleep.”

Deep down Rick knows how Shane feels. That devouring need to be near her when he had found her back. Letting her out of his sight is still unsettling. But he _can’t_ let himself be fooled so easily, and like hell he’s going to let Shane thinks he can do as he pleases. 

The man goes on, “I kept watch in front of the house for two hours, but it wasn’t enough. I needed to make sure she was safe. So I broke into the security block and I found that they keep a key of each house. Do you _realize_ , Rick? They would’ve been able to come and slaughter all of you in your sleep. I stole it and I came in to see her. You arrived. That’s all there is to the story.”

“It’s not,” Rick refutes with another tilt of his head, “you disobeyed my orders. I told you that you had to rely on me regarding the security of the group and my kids. Do you think I could _endanger_ _them?_ I can’t sleep properly so much I worry something like you just did would happen. You keep disobeying me. But if you can’t follow my directions, Shane, simply get out of here.”

There’s that conflicted expression on Shane’s face suddenly - pained, angry. And that’s the problem. He can bend to him, but only for so long. Never enough to tame his own impulsiveness in the long run. Rick doesn’t have a choice.

“Leave this place. By tomorrow morning you’re out of the Safe-Zone.”

Rick lowers his gun, but the man doesn’t move. If anything, he opens his mouth and, before continuing, gets down on his knees and puts his hands behind his own head. At this point Rick expects an apology - he didn’t expect a _request_.

“Let me live here with you.” He has balls - so big it’s a wonder he doesn’t choke on them. “Hell, I can’t even stand a street apart from the three of you. Anything could happen and I wouldn’t know ‘til morning when someone’d bring your corpses on the main road.”

Keeping calm at this point falls under sheer concentration. “I don’t _need_ you to keep my family safe here.”

“Maybe not. I think you’d better be safe than sorry. But the truth is - I don’t know, man. I feel so stupid. When I arrived here I thought we’d be living together. I’d really like that.”

When Rick doesn’t answer, he adds, “You can shut me out if you want to, it’s your call.”

That’s reverse psychology, Rick knows it, but it does show that Shane leaves the decision up to him. He had been right about that conversation with Deanna: Shane had been surprised to learn that he was about to have a house of his own. 

On his left, Judith is in a sitting position, watching him and occasionally hopping up and down to attract his attention. Rick hates ignoring his survival instinct. But with Shane, instinct is only a distant, muted voice: old habits are somewhat still stronger. Once again, he’d like to - have him here. Would that make him look weak? Or fair?

He takes a step forward, and moves aside Shane’s head with his gun. He’s quick to grasp what Rick wants of him: Shane bares his Adam apple, which bobbles when he swallows, and lets him put the cold barrel of his Colt Python on it.

“Your lead.” Shane enunciates dutifully, “I follow.”

The pause that follows infuriates Rick.

“...Carl is -”

He shoves the gun in Shane's glottis, making him bite back a strangle cough.

“Carl…” He tries again, his face twisted up to him and looking like he’s eating a sour lemon. “Carl and Judith - they're your children.”

A pleased feeling feeds Rick's cruel want for a proper punishment - and a proper challenge. Asking, after all, is easy. So Rick removes the gun and, knowing that Shane won’t move nor leave until he tells him so if he sticks with the version in which he obeys him, he turns left and picks Judith from her cradle without stroking Shane’s neck, briefly wondering when he leaves the room how long he can stay like this.

 

 

“Someone infiltrated the security block earlier tonight.” When he had still been stooped to lace his boots tighter, Daryl had heard the footsteps of three people a minute ago. He thought Carol and Eric were alongside Aaron but he didn’t look up to make sure. “Did you hear something ?”

“No. This ain’t me, so that must be Shane.”

He cast a glance and saw the disapproval on Carol’s face behind the two men. “What?" He barked in her direction. "They'll know soon enough, he stole Rick’s key but nothing else.”

She smiled sweetly when both men turned to her, but the second after she was throwing daggers with her pale eyes. Aaron and Eric didn’t comment Daryl's obvious breaking in; instead, Eric explained in a concerned voice, “If he needed the key to go and live with Rick he just needed to say so. We kind of expected he would do something crazy, they all do when they arrive here.”

“We can be glad he didn’t do anything serious then.” Carol said gently - she had everybody eating out in her hand. Her very own way to survive. She was smart. “Even if he could have waited until morning, of course.”

Daryl stood right then and saw the look the two men exchanged. They had that smile displayed on their lips, but Daryl turned around to his bike and chose not to comment.

“Well, I guess some things just can't wait…” Eric’s voice trailed; Carole picked on it.

“What do you mean?”

Daryl knew what they meant but like hell he was gonna gossip. Even more this early in the morning. Even more when there was something else to do. He secured the bag on his bike.

“Well... “ Obviously one or the two of them were trying to attract Daryl's attention; he could feel his nape prickling from their stare. “Yesterday I saw Shane kiss Rick and I assumed…”

“What?” Carol asked, then she laughed. “Oh no, this must be a mistake. There is nothing like that between them. That would never happen. They -" ( _Careful_ _sweetheart_ , Daryl thought, remembering nobody knew the asshole had gotten Rick’s wife up the duff) "they are... best friends, that's all.”

Aaron sounded like a bashful virgin when he apologized, “Oh - Oh, this is my bad. I’m such the stereotype of the gay guy assuming every men are gay too, I’m sorry.”

When were they going to leave? Maybe he had time to take his breakfast after all. He took out one of the sandwiches Carol had made and ate it while leaning against his bike. The woman was still smiling. _She’s like_ _sunshine_ , he thought.

“Well if they kissed that was an understandable mistake. I’m surprised they did, I admit. I didn’t take Shane for the affectionate type. Though I may be wrong about that. And Rick is so cautious, except with his children.”

He had trouble making every word of his sentence through with that mouthful of bread, tuna and tomatoes, but Daryl shrugged and reminded her, “Shane called him his fuck friend that day at the prison.”

“He must have been kidding Daryl. I thought that was obvious. Can you picture Rick letting him say that in front of his children ?”

He shrugged once again. “I can picture him letting people do the fuck they want to save the kids.” He had seen worse. He had been there the day Rick had ripped apart with his teeth the flesh of a man when another had tried to rape Carl.

“You mean you _truly_ _believe_ that…”

Daryl shrugged a third time to dismiss the conversation. Everybody looked dumbfounded now. He wiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand.

“Thanks for the sandwich.”

 

 

The sky is a pale blue - pink splashing the celestial paint, moon slowly disappearing behind the promising light of dawn when Rick peacefully climbs the stairs alone. As he expects, he finds Shane still knelt in Judith’s bedroom, at the exact same spot - in the exact same position. His entire body looks tense, and his jaw is clenched, as are his quivering arms whose hands are fisted behind his head. Rick can even see his legs shaking slightly - but  when he does, the shaking stops. Shane’s eyes are hard with concentration. The deep circles under his immobile gaze doesn’t soften the aura of strength and stubbornness emanating from him. It has been at least three hours. Rick thinks his children are worth much more than that, but it’s getting late.

“It’s seven past ten,” Rick casually says, buttoning up the dark blue shirt they had given him to patrol, “You should get ready. Eat something, you’re going to be tired.”

As expected, Shane doesn’t budge from where he is even if Rick could well be teasing him. He seems decided to win this round. Rick kinds of like it. He likes the resolution behind Shane’s obviously worn out body. He finds that he has softened a few hours ago. 

So he comes into the room and stops in front of Shane, whose eyes are dead set in front of him through Rick’s body. Yet, Shane slowly displays his naked neck without a word. A tender and amused feeling fills Rick’s chest to the smile he keeps under control. The next second, he puts his hand on Shane's neck and rubs the skin, ending their ritual. The man immediately shuts his eyes in obvious relief, his tired body going with the motion. Rick supports his nape for a second, not breaking contact, and then he lets go. To Shane’s obvious displeasure - his eyes are on him, shining from this angle, and he asks, “Does this mean I can stay ?”

“Yeah, you can.”

Pleased half-smile, cocky brown eyes. He gets up with a repressed grunt, joints cracking, but doesn’t complain nor speaks until Rick turns around and go for the kitchen where Carl is feeding Judith.

“Bring your things and get ready. I’ll be waiting for you downstairs.”

 

 

 

Shane did just that. By the time he finished bringing his stuff and taking a shower, there were fifteen minutes left before they had to leave. His skin was still hot and red from the boiling water he had been under, but it had felt good. Relaxing. He had indulged an entire minute under the inflow of water, head up and lips parted, fingers going through his wet black hair. God, this was his first shower in months. The water had been __almost entirely black. He was standing before the mirror now, gaze on the foam. He used his hand to wipe it, and slowly his face disappeared again. He did it again.

He looked fine, he guessed. Yet he thought about Rick’s smooth-looking skin, and went for the razor. Once he was done shaving his cheeks, Shane was faced with his old self. The cop from Atlanta. He had never killed as a cop. Rick’s best friend, the one that had _never_ laid eyes on Lori, not because at the time he thought she was scrawny and not worth marriage-related problems, but simply because she was Rick’s. 

He sighed through his nose. The last time he had shaved his hair had been after he had killed Otis. Yet he couldn’t bear looking at his reflection in the mirror with this face. He looked like a fucking fraud.

Shane grabbed the razor once again and shaved everything, teeth clenched, eyes hard. With each strand of hair falling he felt a deep, angry satisfaction.

When he finally arrived in the kitchen, pulling up the sleeves of the dark-blue shirt he had to wear, Shane ignored Rick’s stare and joined the Grimes at the table. Before he could even sit his ass on the chair though, Carl turned to him with a start and asked, “Shane! What are you doing here? Did you sleep here? I didn’t hear you coming in. You cut your hair again? That looks good.”

“Why are you up?” He retorted, but at the same time Rick answered, “Shane's going to live here with us.”

“Is that true?”

“Only if that’s fine with you.” Shane answered frankly, though he was quite sure of the answer. It didn’t stop him from being tense for a second. He would strangle the boy if he had knelt for hours for nothing.

“Of course that’s fine. That’s _great._  Oh, and I’m getting ready for school. What did you think I'd be doing? I’ve got stuff to do too.”

Shane turned a grateful, strained smile to Rick when he brought him some coffee. Man, he was going to need it. He didn’t regret for a sec having knelt on the hard floor like some slave for hours, but he had discovered even carpets could hurt like a bitch. 

“School?” he repeated scornfully, turning to either of them. “They have _school?”_ He only needed a split second to understand what he was not supposed to say to a kid. So he bit back his remark and asked instead, “And what do they teach you ?”

“English.” That sucked, but it could come in handy to communicate. “History.” _That_ was useless. “Electronics, building, survival basics, tactics, and fighting.” When he saw his approving pout, Carl explained, “We have melee fighting lessons, but also sword and knife sparring beginning today with Michonne, and we’ll have shooting lessons once we find someone.”

“That should be your main course.” He couldn’t help but point out.

To his surprise, Rick spoke - and if he didn’t elaborate, it wasn’t hard to guess where he was leading him, “That would take place once a week, after our shift.”

Shane nodded thoughtfully and then studied Rick out of the corner of his eye while biting down on his slice of bread. He was more than glad to see that, even if Rick wasn’t warming up to him yet with respect to what happened a few hours ago, he was smiling mysteriously, busying himself with a dish towel. By the time they left the house, Shane had already taken his decision. Half an hour later, he was going down Deanna’s doorsteps.

Deanna and him agreed on four things: first, that he would never break into anyone’s property again - yeah, they had found out -; then, that Shane could keep the house he didn’t have any use for as long as there were enough place for everybody in Alexandria; and finally, he was going to teach the kids and adults to shoot, and would take the night shift to patrol as he had offered when she had told him Rick was doing it on week-ends. Week-ends, Shane thought, were for family. So much for good old days patrolling as cops in the community, he realized, but he didn’t really mind.

So, now he needed to prepare for the upcoming lesson. They were going to start today.

 _History_ , he thought with more scorn. _I'm going to teach them what matters: fucking present time._

 

 

Shane is good. It doesn’t come as a surprise, Rick _knew_  he was, he remembers the lessons he had given kids in another world, he remembers how he had taught his people and his own son at the farm. 

But it’s always... a brilliant source of pride to watch him handle lessons, being so precise and so skilled when he shows and shoots without missing. He’s with the youngest now, and Rick is glad Jessie agreed to let his sons near guns, because there’s nothing of that aura of impatience and anger Shane uses with adults to motivate them. He’s quick and ignores the startle he gives Jessie’s sons when he shoots yes, but apart from that, it’s easy to see why he was the best instructor in Atlanta.

Shane spots him long minutes after Rick came to watch them from the wooden gate he’s standing close to, and Shane extends his arms one last time, both hands gripping the small black colt and aiming - shoots, hits straight the center of the target, and tells the children something before walking up to him. He runs his hands over his skull in the process. Rick is staring for a second, thinking for the second time today that Shane looks good like this, even if it triggers memories he doesn’t want to deal with anymore.

“Making sure I don’t abduct the kids?” He asks sarcastically when he’s close enough, tiny smile on his pink lips. Yet Shane looks at him under his eyelashes, his own way of showing weakness: he’s careful.

“No, I finished my day. Just wanted to see if you were fine. I like to watch you.”

“You do?” If anything, he only raises one neat eyebrow in surprise, but that flickering smile is hesitant and pleased.

“You’re the best. Second to me.”

Rick earns the laugh he was waiting for. Shane has his hands on his hips but turns his head up and away to smile. “You wish, Sheriff. I take you where you want to prove you wrong.”

“Maybe another day.”

“Coward.” He waits to make sure Rick understood he’s joking before answering his previous sentence, “I’m doing fine, thanks for asking.”

Rick nods. He heard about Shane accepting to take the night shifts, and along with the shooting course, he doesn’t find fault with anything he did today. Rick’s back to be glad that he’s here. The day has been better than what it used to be - and they didn’t even spend it together. He can’t voice it, though. But Shane knows him: he doesn’t hold forth on the subject.

Instead, he runs his hand on his shaved head again and says, “Damn, it’s hot out there. If I get sun-burnt here I’ll ruin every chance I have to get chicks.”

Rick’s eyes suddenly shine with amusement - he knows what Shane is doing. He probably mostly isn't thinking about women, he’s simply wondering what Rick’s opinion on his new haircut is. He feels kind of self-conscious saying it - there’s this strange knot ball inside this stomach that he dismisses entirely - but he raises his eyebrows while slightly moving forward his body of which the forearms are resting on the gate, and states, “I like it when you wear your hair short. You’re good-looking.”

Shane pouts doubtfully and watches the kids far away but definitely doesn’t not look him in the eye. “I don’t know, man. I sorta felt like it would give the wrong impression.”

He’s probably talking about the group and the way the last time he had cut his hair he had gone crazy - Rick thought about it first thing - but he’s not going to ruin the mood this time, so he pretends they’re talking about girls. “It depends what sort of impression you want to give.” He moves his head to a side and then the other as he explains, “If you want to look cute, wear them long. Sexy, wear them short.”

Shane chuckles and gives him a once-over, smile on his face. “So you came to check me out in the end.”

He doesn’t even dignify this with a reply: he just huffs in amusement. Not that there wouldn’t be things to check out if looking at Shane aroused him. Lori didn’t have much of a choice between men when she left Atlanta, true, but Shane’s reassuring build, all muscle, tall, broad, decisiveness showing on his face and the ability shaping those strong, calloused hands, all of that had surely played a part when she had decided he could take care of her and Carl and bargain it with sex. Most of the time now, Rick was simply relieved Shane had been there to keep them alive until he could find his wife and son back. 

After a minute of comfortable silence, he stands and warns, “I’m going home. I’ll leave you some food in the fridge.”

“Thanks. That’s nice.”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll get the sofa ready for you to sleep in.”

Shane doesn’t answer straightaway, but Rick can’t see his face since his body is leaning on the gate, towards the shooting range. “Sure, thanks.”

The knot ball tugs again, harder, at his stomach when he gets that strange feeling that the atmosphere is… odd, but he goes, wishing Shane luck for his first night of work.

  
  
  
  
  


  


  



	9. Dead Lakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some domestic fluff, very invasive bromance, and a fed up Daryl who's tired of your shit.  
> Or: The starting point of _bromance to romance_  
>  Or: GO AWAY Jessie

 

 

  
  


From what it appears, Shane didn't have dinner. He must have fallen asleep right away - and the idiom is well chosen, because Shane is now laying on the couch, clothes from the day before still on, mouth partly open, in a position that looks quite painful. Rick rubs the palm of his hand on one of his own tired eyes, quietly walking barefoot to the kitchen.

He slept poorly - better, now that he knows that Shane is here to watch for intruders, but he still slept with one eye open because Shane had gone upstairs right after his shift in the middle of the night, and it had been by sheer self-control that Rick hadn’t stormed out of his room to reiterate the scene from the day before.

When he spots the coffee on the table, along with sugar, two cereal bowls, milk, sliced bread and jam, Rick freezes. Judith’s feeding bottle is out too. Then Shane had time to serve them breakfast but not get his own meal? Rick absentmindedly smiles to himself as he checks the time on the microwave: almost seven. Carl will be downstairs soon, and they'll have to wake up Judith as well to get her ready for Carol.

"Shane." He calls in a whisper, squatting in front of his friend and gently nudging him with a pat on the chest. Three of the buttons of his rumpled shirt are open as always, revealing part of the tattoo above his left sweaty pectoral. Rick looks at it for a second. "Shane, wake up."

For all answer, he receives a noncommittal grunt; Rick shakes him a bit more firmly.

"Shane. Come on, get in my bed, the kids are going to make too much noise. Come on, _wake up_ , open your eyes."

Rick realizes his voice sounds strangely tender and amused, what it used to be. When Shane grunts once again, louder, he stands up, decided to let him slowly surface. However, either the sound of his jeans when he does so upset him or the sudden lack of contact is to blame, but Shane lazily cracks an eye open and grabs Rick’s calf with a heavy and clumsy hand.

"Take yo’ breakfast." are the only three blurred words that comes through his furry mouth. "And shut up." He enunciates groggily a few seconds after.

Rick snorts and extends his hand; Shane takes it. Lifting his dead weight up, he repeats as he watches him massaging his neck with a discontented face, "Go in my bed, you’ll sleep better."

"Yeah, yeah, alright. Thanks."

Both of them head upstairs. Rick lets Shane go into his room as he fetches Judith. He finds her still peacefully asleep, her tiny hands fisted next to her head, her lips partly open to breathe. As he picks her up, he fails at not drawing the comparison with Shane. They’re so much alike, only a parent could see it.

He has half a mind to go downstairs directly to put Judith in her high chair, but at the last moment he opens the door of his own bedroom. Shane is undressing: when Rick comes in, he’s absentmindedly throwing away his shirt, deltoids rolling along his back muscles in something that could have been mesmerizing had it lasted longer, and the next second Shane takes his leather belt off with a move and, with the assistance of his hands, let his denim jeans slide the length of his round ass and thick thighs until he’s in nothing but dark boxer briefs. He turns his head over his own naked shoulder when he seemingly hears Rick.

"Hey, what’s up sweetheart?" He asks when he spots Judith’s sleepy form. Her head is resting on Rick’s shoulder, her eyes fluttering close, her fists gripping his shirt. 'Life’s hard on you, huh? Getting up this early -' He yawns wildly and sits on the bed behind his knees. Two tired babies, that they are. "Fuck, I won’t last long. Who’s usually taking care of her?"

"Carol." Rick answers while coming closer and sitting on the edge of the bed next to Shane, patting Judith’s back. Shane’s pout seems approving, but he’s avoiding Rick's gaze. He’s been weird since the day before. "Is there a problem?"

Shane’s head snaps to his immediately. "No, man. That’s a good choice, I’m not doubting you."

"I know." Shane likes Carol, and Carol tolerates him just fine. It’s true that things are still tense with the others, and that’s why Shane doesn't go and casually speak to them yet, he sensed that. In fact, Rick was thinking about something else entirely. "I heard you coming upstairs last night. You went and checked for Judith again."

"Yeah." Shane’s face is twisted in an embarrassed wince as he plays with his hands in a nervous gesture, arms resting on his knees. "That’s the second time I wake you up. Sorry, I’ll -" But whatever promise he was about to say is crushed down before he can make one he’ll quickly probably break.

"She’s safe here, you know." Rick reassures.

It’s obvious Shane’s worried about her, and there’s nothing Rick can do to change that. He catches Shane’s quick eyes, the way they fall on Judith, and offers, "Take her a bit." When Shane does, in a much more casual way than he had done the first times back at the prison, he notes with satisfaction, "Look at you, you’re a natural now."

Deep down Rick knows the conversation is about to come. He’s beginning to feel ready to start it, but he won’t until Shane has learnt to look after her. Shane shrugs.

"It’s easy. ‘Just have to look at what you’re doing, you’re a good father."

"Yeah well, keep doing it then. You don’t have to do it in the middle of the night though, she can handle the light of the sun, you know." He half-jokes, earning a _tssk_ from Shane. But that’s true: Rick wouldn't be half this jumpy if the man moved in plain sight. There’s still something _too_ silent about Shane though, and Rick actually has to think it over to find what it is. "Why did you stay so long upstairs last night?"

Rick likes the way Shane runs his fingers through his daughter’s hair - slowly, with care, and love. He even hums her baby smell. It’s a few seconds before Shane twists his mouth and reluctantly says, "I don’t know, man. I wouldn't wanna push my luck."

"Go on. I’d rather we talk things through." Keeping Shane on a leash worked fine, but he is too untamed to avoid drama at some point if Rick only tries to keep him down.

"I tried to sleep on the floor," he admits, "I had my gun ready and everythin’, just in case, my back to the wall and keeping watch. The usual. But then I imagined your face if you stumbled upon me and I went downstairs as you told me to. I just wasn't feeling right being in another room. Outside we’re squeezed like sardines in a can and here we fucking leave a baby alone. That seems pretty crazy."

Rick understands the situation better: he doesn't know where Shane had supposed Rick would want him to sleep, but it had not been on the couch. 'It takes time.' He repeats, because it does. He still couldn't sleep the night through without getting out of bed to make sure they were there and breathing. "That’ll help now from now on you’re sleeping here with me."

"I am?" Shane raises one eyebrow, carefully watching him out of the corner of his eyes. After Rick’s answer, he’s obviously trying very hard to refrain from smiling.

"That’s better than waking you up every morning."

Shane utterly fails at not smiling. The smile takes more and more space on his face even though he’s looking somewhere at the floor, and at some point he nods. "Alright."

A door opens not far away, followed by the sound of steps going down the stairs, so Rick gets up and extends his arms to Judith. Shane gives her back to him after a quick peck. "We gotta go," Rick explains, "we’ll be back by the end of the afternoon, before your shift begins. No time to miss us."

"I never miss the lot of you." He snorts while on his four hitting Rick’s pillow to get it nicely stuffed. Rick huffs with derision.

"Well, I do."

He did. Immensely.

"That’s because you’re a pussy. You two girls go the fuck out of my room, I’m tryin’ to sleep there."

With a last hidden smile, Rick closes the door. Through it he hears the amend, "Have a good day, Rick."

He definitely will.

  
  


Shane managed to sleep like the dead past midday - at least, like _shot-in-the-brains_ dead, not the usual walking dead - and after that, he was rested enough, and utterly bored. Could be that before he would've slept more, given that the last two days had been rough, but he was so used to sleep one hour at a time and relocates in a safer place that he had woken up feeling like Sleeping fucking Beauty. And he had woken up in the dark, blinds close - courtesy of Grimes -, under warm and soft covers, head in his pillow and breathing Rick’s musky smell. Damn, such a sweet waking had been disturbing.

It had felt so good, Shane had lingered half an hour more, wrapping his arms around the pillow and dozing on his morning erection. Hell he’d had even time to jerk off under the shower, so he really was satisfied with his first morning off. But now he was up and he couldn't simply watch a DVD or go into raptures before the toaster or whatever the fuck the others did. Besides, the fridge was full and that made him uneasy. The Safe-Zone could look like Wysteria Lane, but like hell he was going to play the desperate housewife.

Damn he had enjoyed the show. Maybe he would find some DVDs somewhere.

So he had slipped on a brown shirt and beige khakis and had gone straight to Deanna’s house, gun bouncing on his right hip. On the woman’s front steps he had found Maggie reading stuffs, and Shane had decided that this had been be a moment as good as any.

"Hey Maggie." He had greeted once he had been in front of her. He had looked at the window to see if Deanna was inside. 'Can I talk to you for a sec?'

"Sure." She had replied coolly, folding a book that seemed politics-related or something. Ah right, she was Deanna’s assistant.

"People told me. About - about Beth. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for your father. He was a good man."

Maggie had thrown him a look. What? He _was_ sorry. Mostly for the girl, but that counted too. "Yeah I know coming from me that must sounds like I’m a two-faced bastard."

"You tried to hit him. At the farm."

"I know. Sorry about that, too." Shane’d had his hands on his hips but he had focused on looking at the girl when he had apologized. Man, he had not agreed with the farmer most of the time. Hershel had been a senile old fool and had endangered them, but he had been a loving father and pretty much useful. He had saved Carl. They could use more men like that around here. He told Maggie just that - minus the senile old fool part.

"Listen," he had gone on, because she was still tense around him - maybe the last one actively bitchy, the others just acted awkward or avoided him entirely - 'I know I came back among the group out of the blue, and I just want to let you know that I don’t expect you to feel weird because you don’t like me. That’s fine, I earned it.'

"Yes," She had articulated pointedly, going through a file, "you _murdered Otis_."

Yeah, he remembered now, they had been like family. The thing was, that he still didn’t feel sorry about that. He was sorry it had to happen, but it had to _._ It had either been Otis or him, and had he tried to play the hero, both of them would've died and Carl with them. Yet that night had been the beginning of his descent to Hell. He had lost his humanity to unleashed jealousy towards Rick’s position as a leader, a father and a husband. He had lost so much that night, but nothing Maggie would care to hear about.

Shane had mindlessly run a hand on his short hair. "I did things I’m not proud of, back then," was the best thing he could come up with, "I can’t put things right but I’ll try to make y’all feel not sorry I’m back. Once again: that’s fine if you feel different. I could use your scorn in my humbling therapy." He thought that he had noticed a tiny smile on her lips before he had gone inside. That was enough.

Deanna had been a whole different ballgame when she had spotted the colt on his side. Apparently he was supposed to wear it only while on duty. Shane’s thoughts had remained his own - if he was to speak about this with someone that would be Rick. Their reasoning was shit. Rick knew that cops brought their guns home and could shoot while wearing their civil clothes. Goddammit, he shouldn't even need an _excuse_ to wear a gun when they could be under attack at any moment. Speaking about this. Shane had defended his cause and obtained that both kids and adults received two firing training sessions per week. He had also offered to lead an expedition to find munitions before doing so - munitions would be their main problem. Then she’d said cheesy things about her being glad that he was putting a lot into the community, and he had departed with a smile and his thanks.

Happy, Rick?

Four thirty. Now he was back wandering on the community’s main street like a brainless walker. He hadn’t even crossed path once with Rick. He would finish soon though, and would pick up her daughter. Next thing he knew, Shane was walking to Carol’s open door, screwing up his eyes because of the sun. The shade blinded him for a second.

"Why, if this isn’t Shane Walsh?"

"Hey." He greeted while entering further inside. His first instinct was to look for Judith. The baby was sitting on a blanket on the floor playing with kids toys. 'How are you?'

"Fine, thank you. Are you here to pick up Judith?" Carol’s voice was slightly guarded, and Shane turned one of his still screwed up eyes to her. Was she worried he would kidnap her?

"No," he answered, "that’s up to Rick. He’s almost done, right? I thought I could wait for him here, if you don’t mind."

"I don’t." Shane didn’t outwardly react, but it still felt good to be accepted, even if he thought he didn’t give a fuck when he wasn’t. "Though you’d better take a seat, I saw Rick under Jessie’s porch five minutes ago and that could take a while."

"What do you mean?"

The discreet smile on her lips when she turned away with a dish towel in her hands was all he needed to see. Yeah, he had suspected as much. The girl was a beauty and Rick had been talking to her at the party. There was that annoyed feeling all the same, scratching at his flesh under his skin.

"He would’ve told me if things had been serious."

"It’s relatively new,' she rationalized, 'and Rick doesn’t speak that much. Maybe he used to with you, but from what I’ve seen he never confessed anything easily."

That what a gentle way to kick him in the nuts and make him understand his best friend didn’t trust him anymore. Shane’s jaw was clenched, but he tried hard to ease his face into anything else when he saw that Carol was studying him. Cooling fire-shot eyes was trickier. Fortunately, he noticed just now why she was holding a wet, dirty dish towel.

"What were you doin’? Do you have problem with your sink?"

"Yes, but Dick is supposed to come by tomorrow morning. Dick fixes things." She explained.

"Well, I can fix things too."

That was how when Rick came in ten minutes later, both Shane and Carol were laying on the kitchen floor. He’d had time to explain her how to fix it on her own, and by the time he finished explaining, Rick had picked up Judith and was watching them both. Shane dismissed his presence.

"Was Judith any trouble today?"

"As always." Carol replied ironically, smiling gently. "She’s been a doll. I hardly have to do anything."

 _Well_ , Shane thought, _I’d be happy to do that ‘anything’_. Yet he was struck with surprise when Rick actually said, "I was thinking about leaving her to Shane tomorrow." He turned to him. "Did you have any plans for tomorrow?"

"Hell no!" The answer had come up rather too fucking quickly, judging by the suppressed smile Carol was wearing. He tried again, "No, nothin’ special."

"Well, I think that's a good idea," she said with a suspiciously playful voice, "that will take up his resting hours. He looked like a poor soul before he came to my house." With the remaining of his pride, Shane went outside and absentmindedly looked at the horizon. Forest and the gate all around. Deanna had spoken about extending it. Maybe he could volunteer. He heard Rick’s words (" _I’ll see you tonight at the gathering, Carol."_ ) and then they went home.

 

  
  
  


In the end, Shane had also gone to this joyful playhouse dinner with the members of the community. He had argued that he had to patrol, but Rick had said that it was fine and that everybody would be there anyway. Once his instincts had been put aside, following that order had quite been the easy way, he had figured out - he missed spending time with Rick too much to throw this opportunity away. Yeah, he could be that selfish.

Right now, both of them were sitting on the frontsteps of the mainhouse, under the porch, beers between their hands. The night was still young and the evening damn promising.

"So," Shane started after a full minute of companionable silence, "what’s going on with Jessie ?"

He had realized that if he didn't start the conversation, the bastard wasn't gonna do it anytime soon. Rick kept looking in front of him but chuckled lightly.

"I should've guessed you’d figure it out eventually. You’re angry ?"

Shane inwardly struggled to decide whether he should be honest. He didn't have any right to be angry, after all. "Yeah. Kind of."

"So you think this is too soon?"

"What?"

What was he talking about? _Oh God_ , he swore under his breath, _they were talking about Lori_. Indeed, Rick turned his eyes to him - two blue, bottomless, and infuriatingly dead lakes. Some pains are too ethereal to be driving currents.

"No, no, man!" He exclaimed while coming closer and laying down on the steps, legs stretched before him. "‘Wasn’t talking about that. That’s fine, you know. You earned it." Hell, now he was encouraging him. Funny how quickly he could disavow his own damn opinion when it came to make Rick happy. He wondered how Lori had been able to change that about them.

"Why are you upset then?" Rick asked, his shaved chin brushing his own shirt when he turned his face to look down at him.

From this close, Shane thought once again that Rick looked very young like this. A bit older than the Sheriff’s deputy he had been, but almost not much more weary - he looked like a rookie about to discover the hard rules of the streets. It made his heart clench. But he knew what this Rick had endured since Atlanta. He wasn't going to fall for it, like some bug caught in a spider web. He drank a sip of beer and shrugged while looking elsewhere.

"I suppose I’m jealous. Because you didn't tell me."

Rick shifted his position to lay one of his shoulder on the parquet floor behind him, mimicking Shane's pose, but he otherwise remained serious. It was haunting Shane - that need to reach and touch, pulling him close and protect his displayed body.

He drank another sip and waited for his answer.

"I didn't." Rick admitted at last. "I’m not sure if I want to resume that part of our friendship."

"But you trust me." Behind them, the wooden door opened, letting the fuzzy sound of the conversations rise and die again when the door slammed close. "I mean, come on Rick, I’ll watch over your baby from tomorrow on. And I sleep with you. What do you want to-"

Right at this moment, Aaron passed them by, along with Daryl, who grunted and threw Shane a nasty look. "You’re doing it on purpose, ain't ya?" He spitted out of frustration "Gossiping bitches won’t leave me alone now."

An awkward silence fell between them when the two men disappeared. What in hell… Rick shifted his position again to stand straighter and farther from him. Jackass. Shane felt angry with the redneck for ruining the moment. Hugging Rick after this conversation would probably look weird now.

"You’re right." His friend yet said. "I suppose things are just going a bit fast since you came back."

"Yeah.  _Civilization_. We cain't just quite go on with locking me up in my cell." and Rick actually smiled warmly.

"I like her." were his next words. The admission was light, but it felt precious to Shane for what it meant. "And I think she likes me back."

Shane looked at Rick out of the corner of his eyes. His throat was exposed. The feeble light of the porch was making it glint slightly. That chick would be a fool not to like him. Rick was perfect.

"Of course she likes you. You’re fucking handsome. I’d date you."

Shane was surprised not to spot the redneck coming back at this moment. Shane stopped looking into the night to turn his eyes back on Rick just in time to see him smile.

"It's far from enough. And you’re one to talk - _you're_ the mass appeal." He returned, raising his eyebrows, but then all of a sudden Shane found himself staring at his own foot distractedly moving dirt. Rick’s gaze was tickling him. Where were those awkward fags when he needed to break the tension? "You still can’t take a compliment, can you?"

Suddenly Rick was chuckling. God, hopefully he wasn’t blushing. His body had heated up and hopefully he wasn’t fucking blushing.

It wasn't that he couldn't take a compliment - Shane could. When it came from chicks, he simply acted on it because that meant they wanted to fuck him. Rick though… he always spoke his mind and waited nothing in return. That made him feel naked, vulnerable, instead of stronger. His best friend leaned on him and elbowed his left shoulder. "I’d date you too."

"Shut up." Shane replied while pulling himself out, and he was rewarded with another snort. Inwardly though, his messed up brain suggested, _‘so why don’t we fucking date?’._ Man, he had one sassy mind, good thing his big mouth didn't speak aloud every one of his crazy thoughts.

"I ain’t no easy man, Grimes." He said instead. "You better stick to that girl of yours."

And they kept joking and speaking for a while, both content just to be here with the other. Eventually Rick had to go and fetch them another beer. The night was pitch-dark now - the light of the main house the only one of the community still on. Mosquitoes were a pain in the ass, but they often were on nice evenings. Everything was quiet, except inside. When Rick came back and sat, handing him his beer, it dawned upon Shane that it was a good time to remind him.

"I love you, man." He stated, making eye-contact to watch Rick’s face.

His blue eyes softened a bit, but the rest of his face remained serious and hard, close and guarded. Love hadn’t stopped Shane from ruining Rick's life.

Yet he saw one of Rick’s hand let go of his beer. He put it on Shane’s tense neck - tense from his outstretched position -, and rubbed it slowly. Shane’s eyes fell shut. He hummed on purpose to let Rick know that he was welcome, and exposed his throat a bit more. His fingers were calloused - warm. The touch was soft. The atmosphere had nothing to do with their usual submission routine, but Shane liked it even more. It definitely was Rick’s wordless answer.

Rick Grimes had never been one for words, but with all the desperation Shane had seen in his eyes when he had stabbed him, he had a hard time imagining Rick didn’t love him back - but there was at least affection there. Wasn’t it the same between bros? Yet he wished the touch could go on forever - it felt so damn _good_ , his dick even twitched in his pants. His body felt utterly disappointed when it didn’t last.

"We should head back. _School_ tomorrow."

It was the first time Shane really thought of the place he was going to sleep in tonight. He wouldn’t be far from the Grimes again. He could even stay close to Rick.

"Sure." He nodded, and they both stood. Shane waited until Rick went back into the house to put his cock back the right way in his briefs. Damn. He’d need to get laid soon.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon Bernthal is a sweetheart and a great actor and I'm watching Daredevil and GodFrankCastle  
> Also: Season 7's Rick Grimes in 30 days, yeaahh


	10. The Night is Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Realizing they can find some kind of comfort in the other to heal old wounds leads to a long due conversation about Judith, but also to something else, something darker, something Shane is slowly starting to acknowledge.
> 
> Or: Go the _f*ck_ away, Jessie

 

  
  


 

When they are finally able to put off their boots and roll their tense shoulders by stripping of their shirts, both of them sigh through their nostrils in distracted relief. Carl and Judith have been put to bed, and now it’s only Shane and Rick in Rick’s bedroom - the latter with eyes prickling with tiredness. Shane however can’t seem to be able to stop talking.

"I’m fucking wasted Rick, I don’t even know why. Out there I can run on two hours of sleep."

He started talking when Rick closed the bedroom’s door. Fortunately he doesn't seem like he’s expected an answer every time he opens his mouth. So most of the time Rick grunts in a noncommittal way. Behind him, he hears the sound of Shane’s khakis falling to the floor along with his belt.

"Does Judith take naps? I have to know the difference between when she’s tired and just tired of me."

"A nap after lunch." He answers as he takes his pants off as well. Then, because he’s seen Shane losing it before, he adds, "Don’t freak out if she cries, it doesn't mean you’re doing something wrong."

If he’s honest, he’s not even slightly worried that Shane won’t take good care of Judith. He knows Carol would be a good mother to her if something ever happened to Rick, but Shane is strong and loving at heart, even if he lacks stability. After all, Rick found both Lori and Carl safe and sound after he woke up from his coma. He has to trust him on that.

A few seconds later, Rick is about to go to bed, but - When he turns around and catches sight of Shane harshly folding his pants, shirtless, he freezes, still half-bent as he is. He doesn't know how he’s not seen it before - the light had been off, it had been covered by shirts - but now he can’t take his eyes off Shane’s left pectoral, where his tattoo is slashed in half by an ugly scar just above his heart.

Hardly more than a year ago he stabbed this man to death.

"What’s up Rick? Hey, you’re okay? What are you- Jesus. Don’t look like that, it’s nothing. Hey, are you listenin’ to me?"

The look on Shane’s face when he plunged the knife in his chest. Rick had begged, _begged_ Shane to lower his gun and forget it all, and even though the man shot anyway, at the very last moment, as they were standing close, Rick pulled out his knife and drew  it through his body, keeping him glued to him, watching as anger morphed into shock and into nothingness, his dark eyes shining as he was throwing up his own blood, and then Rick was alone, so desperately alone that he cried out in despair to appease his blunt, red sorrow.

"Hey, hey Rick. Look at me."

He feels a hand on his cheek and snaps out of his reverie. In front of him Shane is looking at him with worried, brown, expressive eyes that moves across his face. Pain frowns his eyebrows. _Alive_ , Rick’s mind supplies.

"I’m sorry I forced you to do this. You were right to. Fuck, you should’ve done it sooner. Do you hear me? I’m not mad, man. That scar is ugly as shit but it doesn’t even hurt."

He’s right, the wound looks hideous, as if it had first looked foul. Now it was of a tender pink color, spreading its delicate web around the area where the knife had certainly broken his ribs. Rick can only realize now that this is the only scar Shane is wearing. Despite them barely surviving, his skin is lean, rough-looking around his taut muscles, but his body is perfect - no holes from shots, no burn marks, no cuts… Except the one Rick inflicted him. He recoils at the idea and Shane uses both of his hands to cup his face and force Rick to look at him.

"I’d let you do more to me right now if it meant staying with you."

They’re so close Rick can easily picture the scene: how very soon things could shift and Rick would be stabbing him again and again in his stomach to make Shane stop, and all of this - again. Their foreheads are joined, Shane’s intense eyes burning into his own as he imposes a slow breathing that Rick follows, closing his eyelids to rest in the dark. Then he’s all senses: sounds, touch, calmness. The night is quiet.

"Good baby, you’re doing fine. Now go to sleep, I’ll be right back."

Rick nods, massages his eyes and sits on the edge of the bed when Shane disappears, trying to figure out where that odd feeling he just had comes from. Like... he just missed something. It itches his mind. Shane really stirs things he doesn’t want to deal with.

A minute later Shane’s back, holding two bottles of water that he sets down on their nightstands without a word, before he obviously lies down on the bed: behind Rick, the mattress shifts and the light is switched off. Rick soon follows.

It’s a few minutes before he can adjust to having that man in his bed, but when he does, the calming sound of his breathing rocks him to sleep.

 

 

 

He didn't time to adjust to sleeping with Rick. True, most of Shane's nights outside had been spent in a tent with Lori, and Carl when the boy had been afraid, or in a tent alone and bitter after Rick had come back, but he had also followed a group for a time as well, and he had spent those nights back to back with one dirty, smelly stranger at a time, wondering if the sucker wouldn’t shoot him dead before sunrise.

Sleeping in Rick’s bed in comparison was fucking sweet: it felt like those sleepovers they used to do when they'd been younger. Once, Rick had slept at his place when Lori and he had fought - that had been before Carl. Two more times he had when Lori had been out of town visiting girl friends or whatever. That was all he had gleaned in fourteen years.

Yet when Shane opened his eyes that morning, feeling like it was way too early and he had some blessed hours of sleep left, he knew right away where he was and who laid beside him. Shane lifted up his own damn heavy head to turn it right, meaning to check on Rick.

When he saw him pale and frozen though, Shane _jumped_ on his four and swore. Rick didn’t flinch. He didn’t even fucking stirred. He remained on his back there, vulnerable and weak, the head resting on his pillow carefully placed on it the right way like he was fucking dead and at his own funeral.

Shane couldn’t stand it. He was so _pale_ under his tan on the pasty, wan morning light, and Shane had already seen that scene once - at the hospital, when he had lost his best friend to a fucking coma, when he had been forced to leave him at this place with walkers devastating the city, and he had cried and cried and shouted on his lifeless body out of anger and frustration, but Rick had never woken up, never once twitched. He had abandoned the man of his life, his very brother to monsters in order to save Rick's family. Shane had tried. He had _tried_ saving him. Rick looked dead right now. Shane freaked out.

He slammed his hand on Rick’s face to undo his composed features, pressing hard.

Half a second later the man leapt under the covers and pushed his arm away, looking at him with surprised, wild blue eyes and _not_ going for his gun when he realised he wasn't being attacked. Shane shouldn’t have the right to feel so relieved, like every taut strings in his body had been cut loose and he was able to swallow the obstructing lump in his throat.

Maybe Rick could see it on his face, that thing that had made him cried back then - whatever it was. Madness, despair. Cause Rick stopped whatever he was about to shout and instead inquired, "‘Everythin’ okay ?"

Now Shane felt outright stupid. He was sitting on his heels, hands on his thighs and looking away, mouth open to breathe.

"Hey."

He felt a hand on his knee. Holy fuck, why was it making his feelings sky rocket through his throat? If he looked back at Rick, he would - he would… He gulped down with difficulty and the hand clenched around his thigh. Fuck.

"Shane, what happened?"

It took him another two seconds to control the wave of emotion and drown it with anger. Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched as Rick stretched out to look at the alarm clock on the nightstand. He fell back on the mattress with a sigh.

"Half an hour left," he declared, clearly changing subject, "enough time to rest some more."

Shane had been about to get up or lay back down without any comment, but it quickly appeared that Rick’s arm was in the way and it didn’t seem likely that he would move it anytime soon. So instead he followed the pull and landed on Rick’s side. He made himself comfortable when he realized that it was what the man had been expecting. They didn’t speak, but feeling Rick’s warmth was enough, in an animal, primitive way, to convey all the reassurance he needed to feel certain that the man was okay.

 

 

The next few days went by fast. Shane’s routine schedule left him next to no time to wonder what was happening outside: on mornings, Rick would get up silently and bring him Judith, whom he would nestle under the covers; Shane would grab her, hold her against his chest and both of them would sleep about two hours more; then, he would take care of her until Rick got back. That was the best part of the day, though it was pretty long too. But like hell he’d have given up on babysitting his daughter to build a larger gate - that, he did once he was over.

In the meantime, he stayed home speaking out loud like a crazed old man, mashing vegetables and tasting them to make sure it didn’t actually tasted as bad as it looked, or he simply went outside with Judith when he needed something.

He had found some navy baby carrier that didn’t look half so bad once he had put it on his chest with his girl inside - but damn, she had looked doubtful about the whole thing -, and he would cross Alexandria like this, going on with whatever business he could find for the day.

Once, they had crossed path with Rick, and Grimes' face had softened as his smile had lit up so bad when he had spotted their daughter that Shane’s chest had _hurt_ \- in a fucking good way. Shane had come closer to let him say hello to her, smiling all the way. A bit more when the man couldn’t see him.

After that, Shane usually went working outside or teaching the kids how to shoot. Then he’d play the cop, taking extra-care to make sure from the street that every light was on or off inside the Grimes’ house depending on the hour, and when he’d come back during the night, he’d slip into the bed trying not to wake Rick. Yet, he felt strangely disappointed when he didn’t. Okay, he _had_ made noise on purpose once or twice. He wouldn’t feel _right_ until Rick had turned to him and mumbled something incoherent and secondary like, "How was work?" or, "Everything okay?", this one comment making him feel less lonely instantly.

When Shane grumbled on mornings if Rick had the bad idea to speak to him, on those nights he would answer with a voice stripped of annoyance, a tiny whisper as trivial as the question. And when the sun was up again, Shane would often be found against Rick, but every night he made sure a very long, silent, sleepless time had passed before he got any closer. If Rick ever stirred in those moments, Shane’s heart raced until he was sure he hadn’t woken up. He kinda felt like things would be strange if he did, though it was stupid thinking about it in the first place.

"Hey." Rick greeted softly one day, the dim light of dawn filtering through the blinds. "I’ll be back at bit late today. I can warn Carol and ask her to keep Judith."

Shane blinked his eyes open, a hand resting lazily on his forehead and taking a long intake of air. Rick was sitted on the end of the bed, warming Shane’s right hip, and he was carrying the sleeping baby in his arms. Rick hadn’t shaved yet, and the stumble - dark in the faint obscurity - caught Shane’s attention for a second. It aged him a bit, but man if his best friend wasn’t an handsome piece of ass.

"What are you talking about?" He asked gruffly, "Give her to me, that’s fine, I’ll stay home."

"You sure ?"

"Damn right I’m sure. That’s no problem."

He sat, ignoring the dead arm that made him miss, and leant against the bed frame to receive the baby. Rick handed her over to him. While Shane was watching her round, plump cheeks and dreamy features, the man turned back to his initial position and looked at the floor, head bent and elbows resting on his knees. Time passed.

Eventually, Rick broke the silence to say, "She looks like you."

Shane’s heart pounded. There was no way in hell that he had said that without thinking.

"What do you mean?" He asked hastily, "She has your eyes."

That was true. The only thing making him doubt logic - Shane had brown eyes and so had had Lori's.

"Your mom had blue eyes." Rick reminded him, turning his face over his own shoulder to watch him. "You know sometimes it just skips a generation."

Shane knew that. Yet, the words felt like arrows. He felt like pinned to the wall. Trapped with the truth of what he had done. And he didn’t like the expression on Rick’s face - beaten and lifeless. Now that he was finally admitting it, Shane found that he didn’t want the title at all. He hurriedly inclined his chest in Rick’s direction to give him Judith back.

"No man, she’s yours. She’s your baby no matter what."

"I know that. I’d fight you for her. I’d kill you."

Yet he wasn’t taking her back. Shane didn’t feel threatened in the slightest - his first thought had always been to find _Rick_ back. He had known that he didn’t have a chance to talk Lori into recognizing that the baby was his.

Rick went on, "But she’s yours by blood. I figured I should let you know that _I know."_

Shane fumbled to find an answer. "Thanks" came out before he could think about something better.

That was it. Rick had said it. Shane was the _father_ of this small doll of a human being. He had _made_ her. Fuck. The feeling was breath-taking, it filled his chest with some divine shit light he couldn’t quite understand.

But then, because Rick was starting to stand up and slightly nodding repeatedly in that way Shane had seen a thousand times, and hated as much, he said, "But I ain’t gonna take your place. I don’t wanna steal her from you, and I don’t wanna leave. I’d take care of y’all if you let me. See, nothing changed." 

Rick was smiling slightly to himself, immobile and listening. "As long as she has a way to be safe with you, I’ll never take her away. And even then, if you still live, I'd bring her back to you. Finding you would be my first priority if circumstances allow it, I don’t wanna take her away from Carl."

Rick’s next words were heavy with honesty, 'Thank you.' He said.

Then, he leaned towards him to kiss his baby girl goodbye. Shane loved how he was taking care of her. Christ, he could even be developing a daddy kink - he loved everything about the tender intensity with which he kissed Shane’s daughter, that softness in his lips showing that he’d do anything to protect her and keep her safe.

Had Lori thought they kissed differently? Shane sure had kissed Lori with gentleness, but with rough passion too. Rick had probably never _fucked_ his wife the way Shane usually did with women - not Lori -, but he could picture them kissing, mixing tongues and Rick relentless above her, groaning when he found her wet.

When Rick raised his eyes, nothing showed on Shane’s face. But he suddenly felt self-aware of Rick’s closeness. Nothing weird. He just wanted to smell him and - Fuck, _when_ did he start thinking like this?

He was no fool, he could feel things shifting.

Sure, he had been curious decades ago when Rick and him had been inexperienced kids, barely young adults. Even more so after that guy from high school had told him that he used to jerk off with his best mate in front of porn. Rick wasn’t juste quite the type though. He’d be fucking embarrassed and Shane wasn’t sure how you were supposed to deal with the following awkwardness with a Grimes. Rick would thought he was a fag. Hell, no. Even when he’d had those three or four threesomes with some cute couples, he’d only fuck the girl. That’s what threesomes were for - double-penetration.

"See you tonight then."

"Yeah." Shane was so far away his voice came out high-pitched and he blinked to reconnect with reality. "See ya. Have fun."

It was a few more minutes after Rick’s departure that Shane was able to restart his damn brain. For once, he didn’t fall back asleep - he got up, Judith in his arms, and went on with his day.

 

Paradoxically, that insane world was the perfect occasion for endless monologues, as long as you were able to not be a twisted animal for more than a couple of days. Shane wouldn't have thought this apocalyptic shit would be so fucking  _boring_. Evenings around the fire were the worst.

Shane had indeed a lot of time to think that day, so it really was no wonder that he ended up thinking back about threesomes and stuff. He’d had two or three in his youth, and talking about nut things, because he really was that open-minded type of guy in bed, he had let that hot girl use that dildo on him. Felt kind of good, he recalled, pouting approvingly while setting the table.

But man, he wasn’t some stupid fag. He hadn’t even told Rick about that recurring dildo, because that ain’t things you just quite tell other men. Gosh, he’d love to hear Rick trying to tell him Lori fucked him with a strap-on dildo. How funny. But really, nah. Shane never even found the guts to ask him if he would be up to a threesome - whereas his best friend would’ve probably been the only one he would’ve suck the cock for, if either of the two Grimes had asked.

Things were shifting. He was no fool, he could feel it. Maybe it was because they were both so domestic, or that they were sharing a bed, or Judith. Maybe things had been different ever since he had come back at the prison, or simply since Alexandria, though he wouldn't be able to pinpoint the reason. He just didn’t understand why, or how, or even if he was the only one feeling it.

Shane ran a hand over his face with a sigh, and then on his head. What was the matter with him?

"Alright," he said to Judith, "that’ll pass. I need to get laid, is all." Yet in the following days he didn’t make a move to.

 

 

Carl had made the most of people’s being busy with the next expedition to sneak out and go into the woods to chill out with Enid. They had been _that_ close to kiss again. But he had foolishly turned his head down to the lake at the very last moment to go back to what they had been doing. He wondered whether he should ask Dad about how you’re supposed to be brave in these situations. He wasn’t sure how many women Dad had flirted with before Mom though. Or maybe he could ask Shane. He was always talking about girls. No way he would _ever_ be hesitating about kissing anyone.

Carl had just weaved in and out of the wires of the broken fence and jumped to the ground when he precisely heard Shane’s voice, "Hey! What were you doing? Where do you come from?"

 _Shit_. Shane’s noisy, bulky stride always meant trouble. Cark turned to him and understood right away that he didn’t stand a chance. Shane’s face was all rumpled with discontentment, shaped lips close in a thin line and eyes darting everywhere above him to probably get how he had managed to go outside.

"I went outside." He confessed, and promptly asked, "Don’t tell my Dad."

"Like _hell_ I’m not gonna tell Rick." Shane swore in return, coming closer and grabbing Carl's arm forcefully. That hurt. "What were you thinking? Why were you _outside_? Do you wanna get _bit_ or something?"

"I -" He lamely tried to free his arm when Shane’s huge hand tightened too much around him and Carl was surprised when the man instantly let go of him. Shane breathed in, closing his eyes and distractedly rubbing fingers over them. "I went by the lake. I was bored." He really hoped Enid had heard Shane and was waiting outside. "I tried to catch some frogs."

"Frogs?" He repeated with a laugh, eyebrows high. But he didn’t seem amused at all.

"Yeah frogs. You taught me how to do that. You remember?"

"Of course I remember." He threw back - somehow softened. Carl knew he had to play on that ground if he wanted to get out of here unscathed.

"We were buddies back then. You were teaching me things and you played with me."

Shane’s mouth dropped slightly opened, jaw slack as he put his hands on his hips. He eventually averted his eyes, probably biting back something, if Carl relied on what he knew of him.

"We’re still buddies. Look, I don’t like that you think that I don’t want to spend time with you. And I’ll change that by talking about it to your father. But right now…" Carl couldn’t do anything when Shane grabbed his shirt and dragged him alongside him. He was sure he looked like a kitten next to him. "We’re both going to see him and he’s going to decide what we’re doing with you."

"Shane, please don’t!" The words had been out by reflex. He could try, he guessed.

"Not a chance, buddy. Your dad is the new sheriff in town, and I stick with my role as deputy."

Carl saw his father’s stare from the distance when he spotted the two of them. Maybe Carl had thought they would get distracted by arguing again about Shane not being the boss, but when the man told him what he had done, his dad’s eyes turned down to him with severity, and he didn’t look at all like he didn’t approve of Shane’s rash treatment.

 

 

The engine purred, and groaned when the car drove onto a big lump. Somehow Daryl had ended up in the four-wheel drive with them, and the both of them couldn’t stop throwing the other an occasional suspicious glance. It was the first time Shane could be free from Rick since it had all started - the first time it was not by accident, at least. The four-wheel drive slightly sprang on a trunk across the road.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothin’." Daryl threw back.  
  
And the tense silence went on. Shane usually didn’t give a damn. But he didn’t like the idea of Rick possibly asking Daryl to watch him as long as they were outside. Yeah, Shane had been _that close_ to stay in Alexandria - Rick had been seriously pissed off to learn that he was to go on the mission in the afternoon. Hurtling down the street with his clenched teeth and serious, tilted face on, he had grabbed Shane’s khaki shirt and asked him if it was true, if he really was going outside to find munitions.

"Yeah, that’s true," Shane had answered, "we need some and I’m responsible for the training sessions. I should go. Glenn is already out for food."

Rick’s startlingly young, handsome face didn’t look half that scary with these smooth cheeks making him look like the man he had been at the CDC. It only brought up his baby blue eyes. But the grip had been strong, partly keeping Shane on his toes. Rick had claimed that Shane should _ask_ him before going anywhere, and when he had refused his bullshit about integrating the community, Shane had realized that Rick was angry because he was _worried_.

So Shane had talked some sense into him, and in the end Rick had sighed through his nose and ordered, "Fine. But you’re here by the end of the day." with such reluctance and authority that Shane couldn't help but joining their foreheads and smile.

"That’d be fucking unproductive, man. You don’t wanna waste resources on me, right? I’ll be fine."And then again, "I’ll be _fine,_ Rick."

Two tight nods, eyelids shut, Shane’s hot breath probably warming his mouth and chin and Rick had conceded, 'Alright'.

Before he'd known it, a calloused hand had crept up his neck and Shane had displayed his skin lightly, turning his face on the side in probably the most intimate position, one you could only achieve to maintain with someone as close to your heart as your brother. Rick hadn’t seemed to mind, or even notice.

"Your lead. I follow. They’re your children."

Rick’s released breath had been so close to his lips.

"‘The fuck you’re starin’ at?" Shane barked when he couldn’t take it anymore. "If you want a goddamn picture just fucking say it."

The redneck simply huffed and looked through the window. Shane did the same. Five walkers were eating a dead fat man on the road. He wondered where he’d found enough food to stay that fat. "Keeping an eye on you, is all."

For fuck’s _sake_. Shane breathed in and pinched his lips to bit back his snarl. "Orders from Rick ?"

"No. Orders from my _intuition_. Speaking of Rick, if you try shitting him I’ll put an arrow through your dick."

They glanced at each other for a while, measuring themselves, and then averted their gaze back to their respective window. Shane put the side of his hand across his mouth. What the hell. He’d been so dedicated to Rick these past few months he probably looked like some sex-starved virgin in awe. No way he could look threatening to him. Could he?

"My dick’d go damn well with the ears on the necklace." Shane admitted.

"Too small, we wouldn’t see it. ‘Would take it for some little girl’s pinkie." Shane snorted lightly. Daryl went on, "Though that’d teach you to think with something else, like your _brain_."

The sounds of the road were the only thing that could be heard in the span of the next few seconds. Shane didn’t have a clue what to make of the comment. He hadn’t banged a girl since Andrea, at least none they knew about, and talking about Lori here would be pretty outdated in the context.

Shane cast a glance to the driver - a guy from the group -, his fist still partly covering his mouth, and then looked at the redneck. Daryl was staring back. No way. He _was_ thinking about _that_. Those fags really were messing with Daryl's brain if he thought there was _anything -_

"I’ll stop here." Daryl declared, opening the door when the car slowed down. "Pick me up here around midday tomorrow. I’ll come back every three or four hours if you’re late."

They came back with an amount of supply so large even Shane was satisfied. They had searched three empty towns before finding what they were looking for, each failure making it even more unreasonable to come back empty-handed - they had used so much gas. Now the sun was quickly disappearing behind the trees, making the familiar Alexandrian figures black against the pink sky, as Shane carried a bag of guns on his shoulders along with a box full of food. Walking to the main street, he watched as a man with a sheriff hat greeted warmly Daryl and then the other guys. Soon after, Rick was striding towards him. They smiled when they saw the other’s face, Shane screwing up one eye to protect it from the fading light.

"Stealing your boy’s hat, sheriff?" He called out.

"When he forgets it home."

"Ya missed me?"

Rick’s blue eyes were warm. He extended a hand - Shane grabbed his arm, letting the other man do the same to greet him before patting his shoulder.

"I’m glad you’re back."

"So you did miss me." He teased, walking alongside him.

"A little bit." Rick admitted with a half-smile. He looked straight before him. "No one to complain about the  _food_ and me not _turning off_ the light of the bathroom. Judith was the only girl home yesterday."

"But you do that, man. We talked about this shit in King County, remember? _You’re_ the woman here. How can you do that? I mean, come on. There’s fucking electricity and you waste it for no purpose whatsoever."

"Yeah, whatever." Rick huffed as he climbed up the front steps, amused.

He loved that. Joking around with Rick. Speaking so casually with all of them. Man, he had missed that. Shane climbed the steps in his turn and went inside. Damn, it felt so good coming back. That house fucking smelled like _home_. Well, it smelled like fried vegetables right now but anyway. He absentmindedly let the bag and the box he carried fall to the floor before joining Rick to the kitchen, and looked around.

"Where are the kids?" He asked casually. "It’s late. They should be home."

"They are." Rick had that secretive smile on his lips, the one Shane always had to analyze with frowned eyebrows. Rick was currently busying himself cooking food, but Shane could see it. "They’re upstairs. I made dinner."

"I can see that." Shane replied, hands on his hips and laying against the table. "Thanks."

He had planned on drinking with his best mate one of those beers they had in the fridge, but dinner was fine too. His body was kind of worn out anyway, so anything involving ‘sitting’ and ‘Rick’ would do. They could relax later.

Shane followed Rick’s movements as the man turned around to put his hat back on his head and headed towards the door.

"Can I ask you to watch over them tonight? I’ll probably be back in a few hours."

He blinked. "Wait, you’re leaving? Where you goin’?"

Another small smile. Shane didn’t translate it right away but he sure as hell didn’t like that motherfucker one. "I’ve got a date. With Jessie. We’ll just... have dinner and get cosy."

 _Get cosy my ass_ , Shane thought automatically, and he turned around to hide the way his jawline had hardened. So all this scene about not wanting him to go - all of that to leave him alone playing babysitter while he was going on a date when he comes back? When the sound of Rick’s footstep rang out, Shane was decidedly chopping a pumpkin in half.

"Is there a problem?"

"Nah. No problem."

"Did you want to go out tonight? I could go another evening."

Man, he hated reverse psychology. They were both great at that, them being cops and everything, but Rick always meant it, and it made refusing him a real pain in the ass. Shane found that his anger had subsided in a small bitter taste in his mouth, and he was able to say, "No. I want to stay home. Go. Fuck her."

He knew Rick wouldn’t like the word. And it made it tasty, tasty enough for a second to clear the annoying taste of bitterness in his throat.

"You know I _wouldn’t_ -" His embarrassment was half of what Shane needed. He knew Rick’s body weight was probably put forward, a warning finger pointed at Shane. But Shane cut him off - he just wanted Rick out now.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Don’t you forget the badge along with the hat if you want to impress the chick so bad."

When the silence grew thicker, Shane chopped it with the butcher knife. He had no idea how you were supposed to cook pumpkins. He figured he’d just put them in the fridge. After a few seconds, he heard Rick turning back and say, "See you later".

"Yeah." He answered - and if that came out rather angrily, it was simply because of the last hard piece of goddamn pumpkin.

 

 

When Rick comes back later that night and casually opens the door, he immediately notices that, somehow, bits of pumpkins are splashed on the kitchen wall while the vegetable itself ended up in a nice mash inside a huge bowl. Everything else is clean: dishes have been cleaned and put away, the table looks neat, and, all in all, the living room is tidy as well. Rick tenderly smiles to himself, clearly amused. He could picture Shane and his anger perfectly.

That doesn’t help his unease. He climbs the stairs silently, thinking back about his evening. Pleasant - it’s so nice to feel something inside his chest, something different from _fear_ and _danger_. Longing, expectation, shy trust. Jessie and him aren’t nowhere near forgetting that he shot her husband, but they’re _close_ , and he can feel in his bones than soon they’d go for it. But then, there is Shane half in the way, and he doesn’t get _how_.

He opens the door of his bedroom and finds the man sleeping on his side, facing the window, his naked back to him. Rick undresses. He kind of feels relieved Shane’s asleep, because he didn’t quite get _why_ he acted that way before Rick had left. He thought about it more than once during the evening and the only reason he could think of is that, deep down Shane is jealous that Rick found someone before he did. It’s Lori all over again. 

Maybe that feeling, whatever it is, would be gone by morning. The thought doesn’t appeal much to Rick and, when he lies down and sees Shane’s broad, muscular shoulders tense, his mouth is running before he can think about it, "Did I wake you?"

Rick froze and waited, but he actually has time to slip under the covers and lay back down, refraining from sighing, before he can hear a blunt, "Yeah. It’s late."

Still mopey, then. "I’m sorry. Thanks for watching the kids."

"No problem." Rick knows like the back of his own hand that Shane has been on the verge of adding something about the children being like his own. He didn’t, though. He doesn’t even need to - Rick knows. After a few seconds, Shane asks, "So, this dinner? Cosy?"

It’s clearly a step to end the awkward tension, so Rick complies, "Yeah. Really nice."

"Home run?"

Rick smiles at the private joke. They haven’t used that word for years -for more than a decade, at least. Somehow though, that feeling that something is weird is back in Rick’s guts and chest, scratching, scratching.

Silence stretches.

"No." He answers as the feeling eases a bit, suspiciously like washed guilt. "We’re not there yet." If only Shane could just spit out what his problem is.

"You’ll get to it eventually."

"Yeah."

Silence again, and Rick is watching the ceiling, thinking for a while. When it clearly appears that Shane won’t speak again, he wishes him goodnight and turns on his left side as usual. "‘Night." comes the reply.

Rick waits. First, he thinks that Shane went back to sleep - it _is_ late, and he had a tiring day outside. But about ten minutes later he feels him _move_ , restless, so Rick decides that it was not because of _that_.

So he waits some more. And still Shane doesn’t do it.

"You okay?" He asks in the end.

"Yeah. Tryin’ to get back to sleep, is all."

"Sleep’d come easier if everything was fine."

"Everything _is_ fine Rick, goddammit."

"So why don’t you just spoon me like you do every nights?"

The sudden, tense silence is the answer he was looking for. Rick looks over his shoulder to watch as Shane’s becomes taut with strain and expectation. He clearly had no idea that Rick _knew_ and wasn't asleep every time he did so then.

This became a habit Rick has grown used to this past week. The first time, he had been too sleepy to care; then, it became… Shane being Shane, nothing worth thinking about. It feels both comfortable and comforting, and the lack of it tonight clearly is a side-effect of Shane’s sulky mood.

So, wondering if that’d help and sighing lightly, Rick turns around and gets closer to the man until his knees and torso respectively meets Shane’s thighs and bare back. Before he has the opportunity to open his lying mouth, Rick puts a hand on Shane’s chest and secures the hug. Skin to skin - living heat and ebullient life brushing with every move. It feels good instantly, as it always does with human touch.

'There." He orders while pressing Shane’s back to his chest with a hand.

Shane doesn’t move, doesn't _react_. He lets himself be manhandled as Rick pleases - his hard stare staring at the wall before him the only indication that he’s upset and still breathing.

Usually, Shane had his head resting on the pillow behind Rick, away, but Rick won’t have any of it tonight - he puts his head on top of his friend’s, his mouth next to his ear, right cheek on his temple. "So now, will you tell me what’s going on?"

Rick doesn’t fucking know, but he’s _trying_ to understand - and he likes that, trying to fix things, right now. He could stay there all night and not complain, if it meant having the answer. Shane has slowly relaxed into his arms, gradually giving in into the touch, like baring his throat for the dominant wolf.

Rick prompts him further, "Just tell me, I’m right _here_ , I’m listening." A sigh through his nose. Rick tries again, "You’re upset. Is that because - I don’t know, because I’m _seeing someone_ and you’re not yet? Feeling jealous?"

"I’m not fucking jealous of you, Rick." He spits underneath him, hard jaw barely moving. From the tone of his voice, one could think Rick’s keeping Shane down, and not trying to show the man that he cares. "Not anymore. I just -"

But that’s the end of it. Shane’s jaw hardens even more, and somehow Rick ends up petting his chest gently to encourage him to speak, head up to look down at his friend’s frowned face. It feels weird doing so. But he’s certain Shane likes it. His skin is softer than what he would’ve probably imagined if he ever had given a thought about it.

"Yeah?"

"I don’t know, alright?" He shouts suddenly, angry in everything but his immobile body. "I just don’t fucking know why I feel like this. I feel like shit, so just drop it, for fuck’s sake."

Circumstances suddenly allows for another thought; it dawns upon Rick that he had it all _wrong_ : Shane isn’t jealous of _him_ , he’s probably just jealous of _Jessie_ for taking up his time. The obviousness of the situation is almost painful now. Quite unexpectedly, it makes Rick feel warm inside and half-smile. He lays his head back down on Shane’s, a bit lower - on his neck, where a wild vein is beating madly. He feels him open his mouth again.

"Just…" And then he’s covering Rick’s hand with his own, intertwining their fingers on Shane’s chest. "Just stay there, alright?"

"Alright. I won’t move."

"Fine. You fucking clingy octopus."

Rick chuckles. "Yeah right, _I’m_ clingy."

The answer is startlingly serious: Shane partly turns his face to him and asks with a tone of voice Rick wasn’t expecting, 'Do you think I’m clingy?'. It sounds like something he might have thought through before tonight, though to Rick it simply is the proof of their long-lasting, complex friendship.

'No, you’re not.' He answers honestly. He doesn’t mind at all Shane touching him to make sure everything is okay.

The man clearly relaxes again in his arms. Rick shuts his eyes. How they managed to get this close after what happened was a wonder to him. He plainly let Shane go back close enough to hurt and tear at everything that matters to Rick. And if Shane ever walks out of his life again... That fact itself would tear something inside of him. That’s why when Shane says it again, Rick feels his breathing cool down and that frightened, angry thing inside his stomach be put back to sleep.

"‘Love you, man."

"I know." He whispers, tightening his grip on his waist and pectorals for a second to let him know with the only things that mattered. His nose accidentally brushes the man’s skin. Words, Rick wasn’t very good with them - Lori had always complained. Shane never did.

"I really do. You’re the only thing I’ve got. You, Carl and Judith. Your fucking lead, man." He partly turns his head to him. "I’d follow any dumbass order to prove it to you."

They’re so close, Shane’s heat warms his face along with his chest, legs and hand. It’s so cosy. Shane's smiling a half-smile though, and Rick attempts not to imitate him.

Instead, he tries thinking about something that’d make amend for his behavior this evening, and eventually offers in a hushed tone, feeling like... something is partly off again, "We need to go to their meeting tomorrow night. How about we turn it into a party _here_ , just our group, before going? We could spend the afternoon preparing everything with _Carl_ and _Judith_ after my shift."

Shane doesn’t work the night on Mondays. That’d be the perfect occas-

"Yeah," he agrees straight away, "I’m in, I’ll show them how we did it in King County. They bring their booze, we'll have music -"

"And pumpkin mash." Rick adds, half-serious.

"Fucking pumpkin mash too. A real party."

Fine, Rick thinks, they could indulge for an evening. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

 

 

 _"Fuck!"_   Shane shouted thirty hours later as he punched the fridge.

A continuous, loud noise came out of it for a few seconds as he covered his face with both of his hands, trying to tame the angry, red, wild storm that were his thoughts over the silent, pale dawn. "Fuck." He swore once again.

He could not. He could not fucking tame his thoughts.

How could things have turned so fucking wrong?

 

 

 


End file.
